FireStorm
by Lindelea1
Summary: Peregrin Took did not automatically follow his father, Paladin, as Thain. This is the story of how he proved himself to the rest of the Tooks, earning the right to be called The Took, and Thain.
1. Prologue

1. Prologue  
  
A knock at the study door interrupted the conversation at the end of another long, but satisfying day. 'Come,' Merry called.  
  
A servant stuck his head in. 'Sorry to disturb you, Master, but there's a message come from Tuckborough.'  
  
'Another letter?' Pippin asked.  
  
The door was thrust wider open to admit Reginard Took, weary and travel- stained. 'Not a letter, this time, lad.'  
  
Pippin started up in surprise to greet his cousin. 'Reginard! Welcome, come in!'  
  
Merry poured him some brandy and extended the glass. 'Thanks,' the other muttered, and took a sip.  
  
'Have a seat,' Merry urged, but Reginard shook his head.  
  
'What brings you to Buckland?' Pippin asked.  
  
'The Took sent me with a message for you,' he answered.  
  
Pippin smiled grimly. 'No letter this time?'  
  
Reginard dug in his pocket to bring out a heavy ring, seal and signet of the Thain. 'There won't be any more letters,' he said heavily.  
  
Diamond moved to her husband's side, to place a hand on his arm.  
  
Reginard gazed steadily into Pippin's eyes. 'Tookland needs a Thain, cousin. They sent me to ask you to come.'  
  
Pippin looked to Merry, then shook his head. 'Give me some time to think.'  
  
'You can have all the time you want,' Reginard said. He set the ring on the Master's desk and drained his glass. 'Don't you folk ever eat here in Buckland, or do you just stand around sipping brandy all the time?'  
  
Estella moved smoothly to take his arm. 'Late supper is just about to be served,' she said. 'Let me show you to a room where you can change out of your travel clothes.' Smiling and continuing to talk, she and Diamond escorted him from the study.  
  
Pippin took a deep breath and met Merry's eyes. 'Well, cousin?'  
  
Merry shook his head. 'It's up to you.' He took a sip of his brandy. 'I must admit, you'll be sorely missed around here. I'd just got you trained in as Steward...'  
  
Pippin guffawed, and Merry joined him in laughter. 'Good thing I've been training Berilac and Merimas to back me up, just in case I'd break the other leg!'  
  
Merry sobered. 'Or your neck,' he said quietly.  
  
Pippin shrugged. 'Could happen to any of us, any day. I couldn't let that runaway team run down my son, now, could I?'  
  
'No, but you might have been a bit more spry yourself, in getting out of their way.'  
  
'Too true,' Pippin sighed. 'Guess I'm just slowing down in my old age.' Merry snorted. They sipped their brandy in companionable silence.  
  
Pippin sighed again. 'I can't believe he's gone,' he said softly. 'He's always been there... like that itch you cannot scratch, or the clouds of midges that follow you around the marshes...' he shook his head angrily. 'How can I be so disrespectful?'  
  
Merry said quietly, 'He did little enough to deserve your respect.'  
  
'No,' Pippin said strongly. 'He was my father. I loved him, in spite of all his warts. He did the best he could, considering he wasn't even supposed to be Thain. He had to be hard, to prove himself. I might have done the same in his circumstances.'  
  
Merry stayed silent. Perhaps Paladin had to be a strong Thain, but his fathering... Well, Merry didn't want to cause Pippin any further grief by pointing out the flaws his cousin had lived with all his life. There was good reason for the old custom of speaking no ill of the dead. It wasn't for the departed's sake...  
  
Pippin's breathing steadied and he surreptitiously wiped an eye.  
  
Merry thought it time to put in a comment. 'I don't suppose you could put Mayor Samwise on the problem of moving Tookland closer to Buckland, to make visiting more convenient.'  
  
'No, he still hasn't solved the problem of the weather yet, and I put him on that years ago.' Pippin got up to pour himself another half glass. It was an excellent vintage.  
  
'We're going to miss you around here,' Merry said.  
  
Pippin looked up in surprise. 'How did you know I'd decided to go?' Merry just smiled.  
  
'My father was a great one to talk of duty,' Pippin mused, 'but all I learned of duty, I learned here at the Hall.' He met Merry's eyes. 'From your father... and from you.'  
  
Merry smiled. 'I'd say we both learned quite a bit from Frodo and Sam.'  
  
'Oh, aye.'  
  
(from "Jewels", Chapter 51) 


	2. Stormy Beginning

2. Stormy Beginning  
  
Reginard and Peregrin Took travelled the road to Tuckborough in a steady downpour. The mud slowed the journey, and the rain made for miserable travel. A journey that would normally take a day, albeit a long one, was looking to take at least two.  
  
Regi reined in his pony to shout to Pippin. 'We'll have to stop at the Crowing Cockerel,' he said.  
  
'This is an auspicious beginning,' Pippin shouted back. 'Perhaps the weather is trying to tell us something!'  
  
'Yes,' Regi returned. 'It's trying to tell us not to bypass the best beer on the Stock Road.'  
  
'I'll drink to that!' Pippin shouted cheerily.  
  
They continued slogging through the mud as the wind picked up, increasing to a gale as they rode. They began to encounter trees down across the road, making it necessary to go off the road to get around, slowing their travel even more. The rain increased, and Regi began to worry. He was wet through, cold and miserable. He thought about Pippin's near-fatal bout with the Old Gaffer's Friend* years back, and how much care the Brandybucks took of his health, whether Pippin himself was aware of it or not. He had to get his cousin dry and warm, and soon.  
  
Another tree crashed across the road and nearly on top of them. Pippin shouted, 'I'm really getting the feeling that I wasn't meant to be Thain!'  
  
'Just as bad going back to the Hall as going on,' Regi answered.  
  
'Ah. Perhaps I'll just stay the rest of my days at the Crowing Cockerel, then, and make sure the beer stays up to standard,' Pippin shouted back. He pointed, and Regi saw to his relief a smear of welcoming yellow in the grey landscape, light pouring from the round windows of a sprawling inn. There were three trees in a row across the road between them and the inn. With a mischievous grin, Pippin shouted, 'Last one to the inn buys the first mug!' To his pony, he cried, 'Come on, Socks! Now for it!' The pony threw up his head as Pippin's heels dug into his sides, and he ran straight at the first tree, lifting easily to float over.  
  
Regi hadn't jumped a pony since his tweens, but his own mount leaped forward after Socks, nearly unseating him. He grabbed for the mane as his pony lifted into the air. He remembered the feeling of flying and leaned forward at the right time, rocking into the landing, catching his balance as the pony lifted over the second tree. Pippin had reined Socks in after the last jump, and turned to meet Regi, laughing. Regi, to his own surprise, found himself grinning. As soon as Pippin saw him safely over the last tree, he turned back to the inn and urged Socks forward again. The ponies picked up their pace, recognising food and shelter ahead, and they cantered gaily into the courtyard as buckets of rain poured down upon them.  
  
Pippin slipped from his pony and led him into the stables, to be met by a lad there. 'No, I'll take him myself,' Pippin said to the lad. 'Just show me where to put him.' The lad indicated an empty stall, and turned to take Reginard's pony.  
  
Reginard called to his cousin, 'I'll just go in and get us a room!'  
  
Pippin waved a hand at him, took off his soaking cloak, hung it over the stall door, and turned to the lad. 'I'll need cloths to wipe him down,' he said as he started to take the saddle off.  
  
The lad's eyes widened as he recognised the White Tree of Gondor on Pippin's surcoat. 'Captain Peregrin?' he gasped.  
  
Pippin gave a bow. 'At your service, and your family's,' he grinned. 'Now how about those cloths?'  
  
'Right away, Sir!' and the lad quickly put Regi's pony into a stall and whirled to comply.  
  
Reginard turned and hurried through the pelting rain to the door of the inn. It didn't take long to make the necessary arrangements. Seeing the Thain's seal on his hand, the innkeeper was all smiles and bows. 'Yes, Sir, right away, Sir!'  
  
Regi nodded and turned back to the stables. 'We'll be right in,' he said over his shoulder. 'I want everything ready by the time I get back.'  
  
'Of course, Sir,' the innkeeper bowed again, and turned to shout orders. Regi smiled to himself. Perhaps Pippin had the right idea, insisting that he retain the Thain's ring until the Tooks formally confirmed Pippin as Thain. It certainly made everything more convenient at the moment.  
  
He arrived at the stable to find the stable lad had his own pony wiped down and bedded in straw, nose buried in oats.  
  
Pippin had made his own pony comfortable, rubbed down with towels, bedded with a deep layer of straw, haynet filled with plenty of hay, plus a bucket of water and manger holding a generous portion of oats. He was rummaging in his saddle-bags now, finally pulling out an apple which he proceeded to cut into slices, taking a piece for himself and feeding the rest to the pony.  
  
'Bedtime snack?' Regi asked. 'Are you going to give him a story as well? Sing a lullaby, perhaps?'  
  
'No,' Pippin answered with a chuckle, 'the lad's a bit tired, I think he'll drop off pretty soon.'  
  
'Then let us seek for our own comfort,' Regi said, sharp eyes noticing a shudder of chill pass through his cousin. 'The inn is warm, smells of good cooking, and I do believe I am supposed to buy the first mug.'  
  
'I do believe you have the right of it, cousin,' Pippin answered. Throwing his cloak around his shoulders (for all the good the sopping thing did), he stepped from the stall with a last pat. 'Good night, Socks,' he said. 'You be a good lad and I'll bring you another apple in the morning.' The pony snorted and Regi almost laughed. Pippin did laugh, and shaking his head, joined his cousin. 'I swear, one of these days he's going to discover the power of speech and I won't be able to get a word in edgewise.'  
  
'I find that hard to believe,' Regi answered, and the two strode out into the downpour, across the drowned courtyard to the welcoming inn.  
  
===  
  
*Old Gaffer's Friend: Shire term for pneumonia, which took the elderly relatively quickly and painlessly. 


	3. At the Crowing Cockerel

Chapter 3. At the Crowing Cockerel  
  
Entering the inn, they stepped from being inundated with buckets of water to warmth, laughter, and good smells. A cheery fire blazed on the large hearth, hobbits gathered around tables, drinking and eating, a solemn elderly dog wandered from table to table, offering to help out with any extra bits or gristle.  
  
Pippin took an appreciative breath, looking forward to whatever was on offer. The innkeeper bustled forward with an anxious smile, wiping his hands on a towel. 'Everything's all ready for you, Sir,' he said to Reginard. 'Please, come this way.'  
  
They did not take a place at one of the tables in the common room, but followed the innkeeper down a corridor with doors to either side. Near the end, he opened a door and stood waiting for them to enter. They walked into a large, pleasant room, fire crackling on the hearth, two beds against opposite walls, a bath filled with steaming water standing before the fire, two chairs drawn up to a table set for supper in one corner. 'I hope this meets with your satisfaction, Sir,' the innkeeper said obsequiously. At Reginard's nod, he added, 'We'll bring a hot supper along soon, Sir, as soon as the bread comes out of the oven.'  
  
'Very good,' Reginard dismissed him curtly. He withdrew, and the weary travellers entered the room.  
  
'So, who bathes first?' Pippin asked. 'Age before beauty?'  
  
Reginard grunted. 'You go put yourself into the bath, I'll go see about that mug.'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'Right!' He hung his cloak on the stand near the hearth and began to pull the surcoat over his head. Reginard nodded to himself and left the room.  
  
When he returned bearing a covered mug, Pippin's clothes were steaming on the stand by the fire, and he was lying at his ease in the bath, head thrown back, eyes closed. Hearing Reginard enter, he said, 'Ahhhh, I find this water much more agreeable than what's bucketing down outside.'  
  
'I can imagine,' Regi answered. He uncovered the mug and held it out. 'Here, I want you to drink this all up.'  
  
Pippin wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell. 'Herbs?' he asked. 'This is not exactly the kind of mug I had in mind.'  
  
'That'll come later,' Regi said, 'with the dinner. You drink that up, now. Likely to catch your death, soaked to the skin in that cold rain.'  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'People are such fussbudgets,' he said, 'always worrying about one catching one's death.' He sipped at the mug, making a face at the bitter taste. 'Why would anyone want to go chasing after death, anyhow, much less catching it?' he said whimsically. 'And why do we say "fussbudget" to describe a person who doesn't at all budget his fusses, but spends them recklessly at the least inclination?'  
  
'None of your nonsense, now, lad,' Reginard said, not unkindly. 'You drink that up.'  
  
Pippin sighed. 'At least it doesn't have honey in it,' he said. He sipped some more, grimacing but refraining from further comment.  
  
'Aye. They wanted to put honey in it, but I told them no. Had to be firm about it.'  
  
'Oh?' Pippin said.  
  
'Aye, had to show them my ring, as a matter of fact.'  
  
Pippin smiled, 'The seal of the Thain,' he said. 'Such power, are you sure you want to put it into my hands?'  
  
Regi almost smiled. 'No,' he said, 'but it's better than leaving it in my hands. Think of the harm I could do.'  
  
'What?' Pippin asked. 'Pull down the Smials? I've been wanting to do that for years, dusty old place. Ah for a decent earthquake... just have the whole thing fall in and start over again.'  
  
'Don't say that,' Regi said intensely. 'Don't even think it, lad. The Tooks will bind you and blindfold you and carry you over the farthest border.'  
  
'They needn't bother about the blindfold,' Pippin said cheerfully. 'I'd hardly try to make my way back. You're dragging me to Tuckborough against my will as it is.'  
  
'You ought to listen to your elders,' Regi said. 'They know what's good for you. Like that tea, for instance... drink up whilst it's still hot. It'll taste much worse if you let it cool.'  
  
'You don't have to tell me,' Pippin answered. 'It's cooling enough to taste already.' He gulped the rest of the mug down and shuddered. 'There,' he said. 'Now when do I get some of the best beer on the Stock Road?'  
  
There was a tap at the door. 'Sounds as if it is arriving even now,' Regi said, and went to open the door, admitting the innkeeper and his older son, both bearing laden trays.  
  
'Nice hot dinner for you, Sirs, bread's fresh out of the oven, beer's just poured,' he said. He laid the meal out on the table, then he and his son bowed and left again.  
  
Regi filled a mug from the pitcher, bringing it over to the bath, exchanging it for the empty one Pippin held. 'Perhaps you'll find this more to your liking,' he said.  
  
Pippin sipped and sighed in satisfaction. 'Yes,' he said. 'Why didn't you bring me some of this in the first place? I feel better already.' 


	4. Sunbreaks

Author's Note: Thanks to Llinos for describing the Green Hill country to me!  
  
***  
  
Chapter 4. Sunbreaks  
  
A watery sun shone down on them for the rest of the journey. Crews along the way were cutting up the trees that had fallen across the road, stacking the wood into wagons.  
  
'No waste,' Reginard pointed out. 'It'll be useful as firewood next winter, after it's seasoned a bit.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin said. 'And sold at a nice profit, I shouldn't wonder.'  
  
'Would you leave it to lie and rot?' Reginard asked.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'No,' he said, 'but I should think such a windfall would be better given to the poor, or the elderly who cannot fell their own trees, nor easily pay for firewood.'  
  
'You've gone soft,' Regi said shortly.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'Perhaps,' he nodded. 'Perhaps I have.' He chuckled. 'I make up for it in foolishness, though.'  
  
'So I've heard,' Regi answered dryly. They rode on in silence for a time, until the woods gave way to rolling green hills, their grassy sides cropped short by sheep and rabbits, with an occasional copse of trees to be seen. They rode through a flock of sheep travelling along the road, leading ewe's bell ringing, dogs keeping the sheep bunched and moving, obeying their instincts and the whistles of the guiding shepherd. Pippin sighed.  
  
'Good to be home?'  
  
'Aye,' Pippin nodded. 'Surprisingly.'  
  
Regi smiled slightly. 'We never forget our roots,' he said, 'no matter how long it's been since the tree was lopped off.' He glanced at his cousin. 'Even years later, sprouts will still come up from the stump and bear leaves.'  
  
'Aye,' Pippin said. 'You've got to be careful about that. Ruthlessly cut the sprouts down again. Burn the stump out, if it comes to that.'  
  
'I hope it won't come to that,' Regi said.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'I hope so, too,' he said, 'seeing as how I'm the stump in question.'  
  
The clouds were beginning to break up, increasing patches of blue sky to be seen. The sun turned the hills to an intense green, and with the blue sky above dotted with fleecy clouds varying from dazzling white to smudged grey, Pippin felt as if he were riding through one of Estella's paintings. 'I forgot how beautiful Tookland could be,' he said, as if to himself.  
  
Regi took a great breath, nodded, saying, 'I don't see how you could ever leave.'  
  
'Believe you me, 'twas difficult,' Pippin said. 'But I couldn't let Frodo go off alone, now, could I?'  
  
Reginard snorted. 'Hardly alone, he had that gardener fellow with him, not to mention the heir to Buckland. And, from what I hear, that scurrilous wizard.'  
  
Pippin smiled at this description of Gandalf. 'No,' he said, 'He joined us later, at Rivendell. We did travel in the company of a scruffy Ranger, after we got to Bree, though.'  
  
'Scruffy Ranger,' Reginard huffed. 'Don't see how you could put up with such folk. Outlanders... and Big People, for good measure. However did you stand the company?'  
  
'O, we got used to them in time,' Pippin said easily. 'Though they had no idea about civilised life. They'd actually forget to eat!'  
  
'No!' Reginard said, shocked. 'I hope you didn't pick up any bad habits from them.'  
  
'O I am thoroughly spoilt,' Pippin said. 'Hardly a proper hobbit at all anymore. If you can believe it...'  
  
'I can believe it,' Regi answered. 'You weren't all that proper before you left for foreign parts.'  
  
'If you can believe it,' Pippin continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, 'I even forget to eat, myself, sometimes nowadays.'  
  
Reginard shook his head. 'Sounds as if you got back to the Shire just in time to save yourself. Forget about the ruffians. You needed more rescuing than we did, taking on such outlandish notions.'  
  
They were riding into the outskirts of Tuckborough now, and could see the grand hill, rising behind the town, that had been excavated to create the Great Smials centuries ago by Isengrim II.  
  
'Lad,' Reginard said urgently, 'I know you've never listened to anyone in your life, but would you listen to me now?'  
  
'I'll listen,' Pippin said equably.  
  
'Let me do the talking when we arrive, will ye, lad?' Pippin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. His cousin was very serious, even worried.  
  
'You're afraid I might prejudice the Tooks against me?' Pippin asked.  
  
Regi chuckled, without humour. 'No chance of that,' he answered. 'They're already about as set against you as they could possibly be.'  
  
'Lovely,' Pippin breathed. 'And what of this committee that sent you to fetch me back to Tookland?'  
  
'We'll talk about that later,' Regi said evasively. They rode on in silence until they pulled up in front of the main entrance to the Smials. Hobbits came up to take their ponies.  
  
Reginard forestalled Pippin when he would have taken Socks himself. 'They're competent here, lad, he'll be well cared for,' he said.  
  
'Is old Tom still in charge of the stables?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Aye,' Regi nodded.  
  
'Then I figure they ought to take adequate care,' Pippin answered. He said to the young hobbit holding Socks, 'He's a good lad, take as much care of him as if he were your own mother.'  
  
'O aye,' said the stable worker, 'and better.'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'You do that, lad, and I'll thank you. He likes to have an apple after he's rubbed down and put to bed.'  
  
The stable worker patted his pocket. 'Just happens I've got one here,' he said. 'Don't you worry, Sir, he's in good hands.' Pippin thanked him and turned away to join Regi.  
  
'That wasn't so bad,' he said. 'I thought you said...'  
  
'He doesn't realise who you are,' the other answered. 'You've been gone so long, the younger lads don't know you by sight.'  
  
'That's encouraging,' Pippin said. ' 'Twill make it easier to slip away again if need be.'  
  
Reginard gave a short bark of laughter.  
  
'I wasn't joking,' Pippin said.  
  
'I didn't think you were,' his cousin answered.  
  
They entered the Smials to be met by a group of hobbits who'd seen them ride up. There were respectful bows and greetings for Reginard, then the eyes turned to Pippin, the looks ranging from cool appraisal to open hostility.  
  
Reginard spoke a little louder than need be. 'Welcome back to Tuckborough, Peregrin. Would you like go greet your mother?'  
  
'Aye,' Pippin said, 'That's the first thing I'd like to do.'  
  
'Good,' Regi answered. 'I'll meet you in the Thain's study, after you're finished.' He clapped Pippin on the shoulder and turned away. The group of hobbits broke apart, some following Reginard, others apparently intent on other business. None greeted Pippin, and in silence, he walked the well- remembered route to his mother's rooms. 


	5. Smials Welcome

Chapter 5. Smials Welcome  
  
Eglantine Took greeted her son with a choked cry, dropping her stitchery, rising from her chair by the fire to meet him with a great hug. 'O Pippin,' she said. 'O my boy, my dearest boy.' Her voice broke and she said no more for a long time, as he held her close and patted her back gently. Finally, she pushed herself back to look up into his face. 'It has been too long, Son,' she said.  
  
'Too long, indeed,' Pippin answered.  
  
'I hear you've made good in Buckland,' Eglantine said, her tone proud. 'They say the Hall could hardly do without its steward.'  
  
'I'm sure Merry will muddle along somehow,' Pippin answered. 'He's pretty good at muddling, you know.'  
  
'I know,' she smiled. 'He's half Took, after all.' She sobered. 'Those Tooks who mention your name at all, say that 'tis Merry who's kept you out of trouble, more than the other way around.'  
  
'He has, indeed,' Pippin smiled. 'But I like to think I've done my share.'  
  
'I'm sure you have, Son,' Eglantine said with another hug. 'You've a good head on your shoulders...' she looked up again, a mischievous smile lighting her face, '...even if you don't choose to show it most of the time.'  
  
'It is nice to know my mother has such confidence in her son,' Pippin said.  
  
'O aye,' she answered. 'Your father thought so, too.'  
  
Pippin sobered. 'That comes as a surprise,' he said softly. 'All I remember him remarking on was how the few thoughts I had must rattle about, my head being so empty and all.'  
  
'You should have heard him brag on you,' she whispered, 'how proud he was of you.'  
  
'Never before my face, though,' Pippin said. 'As far as I knew, I was the most worthless son ever to darken a father's life. I always tried my best for him, but it was never good enough.'  
  
'O Pippin,' she said, tears coming to her eyes.  
  
'If he spoke so well of me, that must explain the whole-hearted welcome I received from the Tooks just now,' Pippin said dryly.  
  
'He was bitter,' Eglantine said, 'when you refused to return.'  
  
'He was the one who disowned me in the first place, Mother, as I recall.'  
  
She sighed. 'He took you back,' she said.  
  
'Only to disown me again, the next time I would not bend to his will. I just let things stay that way, after that. Why bounce back and forth like a ball? Much easier for a lazy lad to rest in one place, after all.'  
  
'O Pippin,' she reproached again.  
  
'And so whilst he was sending letters to Buckland, begging for my return, he was sowing seeds of bitterness against me with the Tooks,' Pippin said. 'I ought just to get back on my pony and ride back to Buckland, save that the lad is weary from the journey and deserves a night's rest, first.'  
  
'Please don't go,' his mother pleaded.  
  
'You and Regi want me to stay,' he said thoughtfully. 'Anyone else?'  
  
She smiled ruefully. 'Your sisters, perhaps. Though I wouldn't count on it.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin said. 'So nice to be wanted.'  
  
'Your father wanted you, lad,' Eglantine said gently. 'His last thoughts were of you, Son.'  
  
'What did he say?'  
  
'He said... "My best was never good enough".' Her voice choked off in a sob, and swallowing hard, she continued in a whisper. 'He said, "Tell Pippin... I wish..." and that was all.' She saw her son's stricken face, and embraced him.  
  
He murmured into her hair, 'I wish, too. I wish I hadn't been so stubborn...'  
  
'O my boy,' she said. 'It's a byword in the Shire, is it not? "Stubborn as a Took". And it was better that you never came back, better for you both. He loved you very much, but he didn't know how to love. He would have destroyed you, trying to make you over into his image.'  
  
'I'm tougher than I look,' Pippin said, releasing Eglantine and smiling down into her face.  
  
'I don't know,' she teased. 'You don't look all that tough to me. That smile has got to go.'  
  
He frowned obediently. 'How does this look?'  
  
'It will do for a start,' she answered seriously. 'You are going to have to be hard, Son, harder than diamonds, or the Tooks will eat you for breakfast.'  
  
'They'll break their teeth on me if they try,' he said.  
  
She chuckled low in her throat. 'Pity the poor Tooks, then,' she said. 'I don't think they know what they're up against.'  
  
They moved to the chairs on either side of the hearth, talking awhile longer, then Pippin rose to give his mother a last hug. 'Regi wanted me to meet him in the Thain's study,' he said.  
  
'I will see you at supper,' Eglantine answered.  
  
'I'll be there with bells on,' he promised.  
  
Eglantine shuddered. 'Leave the bells,' she said. 'All I want to see is you.'  
  
He laughed and gave her a last hug. 'I'll be there...' he said, and turned to the door. Looking back, he stood a moment as if memorising the scene, his mother in the chair by the fire, holding her needlework, smiling at him. With a last smile, he closed the door softly behind him.  
  
***  
  
As Pippin started to open the study door, he heard raised voices within.  
  
'Whyever did you have to bring him here? He's a nuisance and a wastrel!' Pippin recognised the voice of Everard Took.  
  
'He's not wasted much as Steward of Buckland,' Reginard answered calmly.  
  
'That's because he's had Meriadoc Brandybuck standing at his shoulder, keeping him straight,' Everard answered.  
  
'I cannot understand why you went to Buckland to bring back that ne'er-do- well,' Ferdibrand Took broke in. 'You've acted as Thain this past year whilst old Paladin lay abed refusing to die. Now you might as well take on the title and *be* Thain. No one would oppose you.'  
  
'Pippin is the old Thain's son...' Reginard began.  
  
'And we've seen that the succession needn't go from father to son, as long as it stays in the family! You're a Took, that's all that matters!' Ferdibrand broke in heatedly. 'Paladin wasn't the son of Ferumbras!'  
  
'Ferumbras died childless,' Reginard countered. 'Paladin had a son.'  
  
'A worthless mischief-maker, ' Everard said.  
  
'A good-for-nothing...' Ferdibrand confirmed. 'You ought to be Took and Thain, Regi, I cannot understand how you can throw it away and condemn Tookland to suffer under this... this...'  
  
Pippin decided it was a good time to enter. 'Scalawag?' he said helpfully as he came through the door. 'Or perhaps scapegrace would do.' The three arguers turned to him, and he smiled. 'Hello, Everard, it has been a long time.'  
  
'Not long enough,' the other muttered under his breath.  
  
Ferdibrand regarded him with thinly veiled contempt. 'The Thain's already in the ground,' he said, 'so why don't you go back to where you came from?'  
  
Pippin kept smiling. 'It's nice to see you, too, cousin,' he replied.  
  
Everard said to Reginard, 'Well, brother, I wash my hands of it. You do what you want. You always have done.' Without another glance at Pippin, he stalked out of the study.  
  
Ferdibrand glared at Pippin. 'What are you doing back here?' he asked. 'I thought your father disowned you.'  
  
Pippin answered coolly, 'He did. But he changed his mind and asked me to come back.'  
  
The other smiled wryly. 'And you have always been such a fine, obedient son, one to be proud of...'  
  
Reginard intervened. 'Now, that's enough, Ferdi.'  
  
Ferdibrand shook his head stubbornly. 'You've got that right, cousin. That's enough of Pippin, anyhow. I've had more of him than I can stomach already. The sooner I see the back of his pony, the better. And good riddance to bad rubbish!' He followed Everard, closing the study door firmly behind him.  
  
Pippin stared at the door for a moment, drew a deep breath, and turned to Reginard. 'Well,' he said, 'We're off to a good start, then. That went better than I'd expected.' As he'd intended, Reginard stared at him in shock for a moment, then broke into a hearty guffaw. Pippin cocked his head, staring intently at his cousin. 'Let us get some things straight, here, Regi,' he said quietly. 'Just who was the "they" that sent you to fetch me from Buckland?'  
  
'It was a committee of three,' Reginard answered. 'Me, myself, and I.'  
  
Pippin took another deep breath and squared his shoulders. 'That was what I was afraid of,' he said, and shook his head. 'Whatever were you thinking?' 


	6. Breakfast Conversation

Chapter 6. Breakfast Conversation  
  
Reginard Took tapped on his cousin's door just after dawn. Hearing no answer, he cautiously turned the knob and opened the door. He stared in consternation at the neatly made bed, thinking wildly for a moment that Pippin had decided to go back to Buckland after all, or that his Tookish cousins had carried out their threat to cast him out of Tookland, bag and baggage. But no, he saw the mail laid out, surcoat carefully folded, silvery Tree of Gondor shining upon the black surface. At a hand on his shoulder, he whirled to face the cousin he sought.  
  
'Looking for me?' Pippin said with a smile.  
  
'Don't *do* that!' Regi snapped.  
  
Pippin's smile faded, but he said, 'I often go out to greet the dawn. Makes my own troubles seem a bit smaller, somehow.'  
  
Regi nodded, steadied himself, slapped his cousin on the back. 'I'm a little on edge,' he admitted. He met his cousin's eyes, but found no fear or anxiety there, only a calm acceptance. 'Aren't you at all apprehensive?' he asked.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'I've faced worse than Tooks,' he said, 'much worse.' Regi nodded again. The two of them had talked deep into the middle night, Steward of Buckland and Steward of Tookland, coming to understand one another better, and Regi felt even more strongly that his choice of Pippin to follow Paladin as Thain had been the right one. Pippin lifted his chin, narrowing his eyes. 'What's the worst they can do?' he said. 'I've been captured by orcs, you know. Tooks cannot be much worse than that.'  
  
'A little worse, perhaps,' Regi said.  
  
'Only a little?' Pippin laughed. 'Well, then, let us go to greet our doom. No use standing around here waiting for it to come to us.' They walked together to the great room.  
  
On the way, Regi asked, 'No fancy mail coat today?'  
  
Pippin smiled grimly. 'D'you expect someone to try me with a knife?' At Regi's gasp, he said, 'O no, of course, that's not hobbits' way, they'd just bind me and cast me over the border, wouldn't they.'  
  
Regi shook his head. 'Whatever did they teach you off in those foreign parts?' he said softly.  
  
'That we're better off than we know,' Pippin answered. 'And I mean to keep it that way.' He sighed. 'In some ways, the Big Folk think so much bigger than we do, but in so many ways, Regi, they are more to be pitied. Their ways are not our ways, and for that I am very thankful.' He went back to his cousin's original question. 'I do not think the Tooks are impressed by Captain Peregrin. They think me foolish for having travelled out of the Shire in the first place, and as far as throwing the ruffians out... well, Tooklanders did just fine on their own, thank you very much and do not stumble on your way out of the door, if you please.'  
  
'And so you dress like any other hobbit,' Regi said quietly.  
  
'I *am* any other hobbit. Aside from being a son of a Took, that is,' Pippin answered.  
  
Regi smiled grimly at the epithet, good for provoking fisticuffs when spoken under other circumstances. 'I wouldn't say that too loud, lad,' was all he said.  
  
Stopping on the threshold, Pippin said, 'Couldn't they fit any more in?'  
  
Regi surveyed the tables, elbow-to-elbow with Took relations. 'No,' he said, shaking his head, 'not unless they start to sit atop the tables, and then someone might mistake them for sausage or bacon and stick a fork into them...'  
  
Everard nudged Ferdibrand from where they sat at the head table. 'What's Regi playing at?' he said reflectively, gazing at the twain pausing in the doorway.  
  
Ferdi looked around the tables, then over to the highest places at their table, reserved for Thain and Steward. As was custom, even when Thain Paladin was confined to his bed, a place was set for the Thain, with the Steward at his right hand. Earlier this morning, Reginard had put the Thain's seal in the centre of the plate where it had reposed at each formal meal since the Thain's death. The ring was taken away when the place settings were cleared, kept safe in Regi's pocket or on his hand when he conducted official business, then carefully set in the centre of the plate again when the table was set. This would continue, according to custom, until the new Thain was chosen and took up the seal.  
  
'I don't see a place set aside for Pippin,' Ferdi said. 'The room is packed as tight as a box of apples. He'll have to stand up to eat. There should have been a place set for him between the Thain's plate and Eglantine.'  
  
'Where did he sit last night?' Everard said. 'I didn't make it to supper.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'He ate in Eglantine's rooms,' he answered. 'She almost never comes to the great room for meals anymore.'  
  
'She did this morning,' Everard said. 'Regi's got something planned, I know it.'  
  
'All the rest of the family know it, too,' Ferdi said. 'Rumour spreads in Tookland faster than tomato blight.'  
  
'Aye,' Everard answered uneasily. Just then, he saw Reginard nod to Pippin. His brother walked into the room to the Thain's place, pulled out the chair and ceremoniously waved his cousin to seat himself there. A barely suppressed gasp rippled around the room. Pippin glanced at the steward, bent with a smile to kiss his mother's cheek, then took the Thain's chair next to her.  
  
The Tooks watched with bated breath as he picked up the seal of the Thain, weighing it in his hand, then gently set it on the table near the top of his plate. A collective sigh was heard. The steward seated himself, and the servants began to serve the first breakfast course.  
  
'He didn't put it on,' Ferdi muttered. 'He scorns the Thainship?'  
  
'What d'you want?' Everard answered. 'You'd've been outraged had he put the seal on his hand, now you're out of sorts that he didn't?'  
  
'Hah,' was all Ferdi could muster.  
  
Everard dropped his voice. 'Not even a king crowns himself, you know. Regi's got some kind of plan, to get the family to approve this... this...'  
  
'Travesty?' Ferdibrand said.  
  
Everard shot him a sharp glance and shook his head. 'What happened, Ferdi?' he asked quietly. 'You and Pip used to be quite close as lads.'  
  
'First, he went off on an adventure, and didn't even tell me he was going!' Ferdibrand huffed. 'And then, he didn't bother to come back.'  
  
'His father threw him out, as you recall,' Everard said.  
  
'And why are you defending him, all of a sudden? Old Paladin just had a fit of temper, is all. He took him back, didn't he? But no, instead of coming back, Pippin chose to stay amongst the Bucklanders. As if Tookland wasn't good enough.' Ferdi made a violent gesture as he continued. 'He threw everything away, all the plans we'd ever made of how we'd stir things up when he became Thain...' He spoke so low that Everard could hardly hear him above the clinking of silverware on plates and the chatter of hobbits eating and gossiping. Snatches of other conversations drifted over them.  
  
'...didn't want to be Thain! I say if Tookland's not good enough for him, he can...'  
  
'...see that limp?'  
  
'That was from when he broke his leg last year, bad break I hear, had to learn to walk all over again.'  
  
'And I hear his lungs are bad in the bargain. Is he well enough, I say?'  
  
'...gallivanting off to foreign parts in the company of outlandish folk, just like old Mad Baggins. What's to say he doesn't go off again on a whim once he's Thain?'  
  
'We don't need 'im! Regi's done a fine job since the old Thain took to his bed. If you ask me, I'd say he was running Tookland even before...'  
  
'...duty to Tookland? Or, for good measure, what about his duty to the Shire? Some kind of dutiful son he was!'  
  
'I dunno. If old Paladin'd been my da I might've done the same as him...'  
  
'Hush! Don't speak ill of the dead!'  
  
Everard shook his head, turning again to Ferdibrand. 'He threw it away, at that,' he agreed. 'If he'd just allowed himself to stay under the thumb of the Thain...'  
  
Ferdi snorted. 'Could you?'  
  
Everard said unexpectedly, 'We all *did*. Paladin ruled with an iron fist, he chose the tune and we danced to it, now, didn't we, lad? Half the Tooks are angry because his son refused to dance, wanted to choose his own tune.'  
  
'If you're so understanding all of a sudden, why don't you give him a great welcome and jam the ring upon his finger, then?' Ferdi hissed. He subsided, stabbing a piece of sausage viciously with his fork. 'I know where I'd like to tell him to stick the thing...' Muttering, he applied himself to his breakfast, half listening to the speculation going on about them.  
  
Finally, he turned back to Everard and said, 'Why are you so set against it, anyhow?'  
  
'Isn't it obvious?' the other said. 'Reginard is my brother, I want what's best for him. He's played second fiddle to the Thain all these years, been a fine steward, run Tookland all but in name the past few years... he ought to be Thain. He deserves the title, he's earned it. I trust him to do a good job for the people. He's throwing it all away. The Tooks will follow his lead, and he knows it.' He ground his teeth in frustration. 'He's going to put the seal on cousin Pippin and no one will dare to say "boo".'  
  
'All right,' Ferdibrand said. 'Let him do it.' Everard glanced at him, startled to see him smiling grimly. 'Let him honour Thain Paladin's last wish, make his son Thain after him. We'll just wait for the fall, then pick up the pieces. When Regi sees the ruin Pippin makes of things, he'll realise he, *Regi*, was meant to be Thain and Took all along. The people will forgive him this one error, it's the only one he's made in all his years of being steward.'  
  
Everard nodded. 'O aye,' he said softly. 'You have the right of it, young cousin. We'll keep a close watch, and when Pippin comes to ruin, we'll make sure Regi steps up... and we'll be right behind him. I'll be his steward, and you... I'm sure we can find something for you to do, as well.'  
  
'Thank you, cousin Everard,' Ferdibrand answered. 'I shall hold you to that, you know.'  
  
'Of that,' Everard answered, 'I have no doubt at all, my lad. Not a single doubt.' He bent back to his food as the plate was removed and the next course served. 


	7. Convocation of Tooks

Note to Reader: I read somewhere, in Professor Tolkien's writings, that hobbit society had been in ancient times matriarchal in nature, and so it would not be surprising for the widow of the Thain to take such an important role in the raising up of a successor.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 7. Convocation of Tooks  
  
The last breakfast course was cleared away, the servants placed freshly- filled, cosied teapots on the table, the Tooks sat back to sip tea and await developments.  
  
Eglantine Took rose from her chair, and the gossip began to quiet. As the wife of Thain Paladin, she had made peace with her lot, the necessity to retreat into her husband's shadow, raising her children and quietly directing the domestic affairs of the Great Smials. Few of the hobbits of Tookland knew how much she had tempered her husband's impulsiveness and anger, how her calm words of reason in the quiet of the evenings by the fireside had subtly guided him. Her husband had privately valued her opinion and sought it often; he had loved her deeply, turning his anger on all else but her, and she had used his love wisely to influence him for the good of Tookland. She softened his hard edges without blunting them, and though Paladin had ruled as a tyrant, Tookland and its hobbits had been well-cared for.  
  
Now her husband was dead, and she had a last service to perform for him.  
  
'We have called a convocation of Tooks,' she began. She did spoke clearly, not overloud, addressing the hobbits in the great room rather than shouting at them. The Tooks did not have to strain to hear her words, but they did have to pay attention. Her gaze swept the room and the hobbits fell silent under her scrutiny. When she was satisfied that she held the attention of all, she continued.  
  
'Are there any who should be here, needing to be brought?' she asked, not that the room would hold more, it was jammed full of Tooks, and more had come in as the breakfast ended, to stand against the walls. A smile touched Pippin's lips as he anticipated the next ritual question, and he exchanged a sardonic glance with Reginard.  
  
'Are there any here, who should be excluded?' Under Eglantine's stern eye, a few hobbits stirred, but none dared speak. The servers, standing in their line, bowed as one to the Mistress of Tookland and filed from the room, great doors firmly shut behind them.  
  
Eglantine nodded. 'We are here this day to choose a Thain,' she said. 'It is not a choice to be made lightly, or on a whim, but to be entered into only after sober consideration, as when the hobbits of the Shire chose Bucca of the Marish to be the first Thain.' She paused. 'We choose not only the head of the Took family, but one who will be Master of the Shire-moot, and Captain of the Shire-muster and the Hobbitry-in-arms: The Took, and Thain.'  
  
She gazed about the room again. 'From the time of Isumbras I, the Thain has been a Took. The Thainship has, for the most part, passed from father to son. There have been exceptions, as we must acknowledge, when the succession was not possible.' The hobbits waited, wondering. Did her words mean she was about to put her son forward, or pass him over?  
  
'In each of those cases, the Thain died childless,' Eglantine continued. She glanced at Reginard, and then at Pippin, very serious now, her voice dropping. There was not a sound in the great room; as a matter of fact, many of the Tooks there held their breaths to hear her next words.  
  
'Thain Paladin, however, had a son,' she said. 'It is true, he disowned his son, not once, but twice, putting him away, decreeing that his name should never be spoken again within the borders of Tookland.'  
  
Firm as a rock, Eglantine stood, showing none of the grief and despair of the past. Lifting her chin, she added, 'But the Thain broke his own edict; he spoke the name of his son, he sent letters to beg his return.' There was a slight stir at the astonishing thought of grim old Paladin *begging* for anything. 'His last thoughts were of his son, and his last words... it was his desire that Peregrin Took, son of Paladin follow him as Thain.'  
  
She raised her voice, the question ringing loud and clear. 'Are there any here who would dispute the succession?' None of the Tooks moved. She asked again, as custom demanded. 'Are there any here who would dispute the succession?' Silence reigned.  
  
Eglantine picked up the seal and signet of the Thain from the table. She held it up for all to see, to ask the question for the third and final time. 'Now is the time to speak,' she said. 'If there is aught against Peregrin Took, if there is another better qualified to take his place, speak now, or resolve to be forever silent on the matter.' She waited, then said for the last time, 'Are there any here who would dispute the succession?'  
  
She waited the required three breaths, then turned to her son. 'Rise, Peregrin, son of Paladin,' she ordered. Looking up into his eyes, she led him through the oath, in which, among other glorious words and phrases dictated by centuries of tradition, he swore to protect and serve the hobbits of Tookland and of the Shire, and then she placed the seal of the Thain upon his hand.  
  
Eglantine nodded then at the Steward of Tookland. Reginard rose, bowed to the new Thain, proclaimed, 'The Tooks have chosen a Thain! He will be confirmed before the Shire on the next mid-Year's Day, as tradition requires. Until then, he is Thain of the Tooks, and his word is the law of Tookland. Cousins, I invite you to greet your Thain.'  
  
As one, the hobbits filling the room rose to bow to the new Thain. He nodded to acknowledge them, turned away, and Thain and Steward left the great room.  
  
As Regi closed the door behind them, they heard a buzz of conversation arise. The steward took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. 'Did the Tooks even have a choice?' he breathed. 'Your mother is a wonder.'  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I could have told you that,' he answered. 'My father had the energy and the strength to rule as Thain, but she was the bit in his mouth that kept him from running away with the wagon and coming to a crash.'  
  
'I believe you,' Regi said. 'I've always been a little afraid of Cousin Eglantine, and now I know why.'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'You and a lot of other people,' he said. 'My mother didn't just sit by the fire plying her needle all these years, you know.' He sighed. 'Well, there's one good thing about being Thain.'  
  
'What's that?' Regi asked.  
  
'I don't think I have to worry about being bound and blindfolded and carried over the furthest border,' Pippin said.  
  
'Well, not today, anyhow,' Regi answered. 'Not until they decide to depose you again, at least.'  
  
'You're such a comfort, Regi, I don't know what I would do without you,' Pippin said.  
  
'You'd be very contented, sitting around Brandy Hall sipping some of the Hall's finest, I imagine,' Regi said.  
  
'On second thought, perhaps you're not such a comfort after all,' Pippin mused, then laughed as Regi punched him on the arm, adding, 'Come on, Steward, let's get to work.' 


	8. First Day on the Job

Chapter 8. First Day on the Job  
  
Pippin paused in the doorway to the Thain's study. 'This has got to go,' he said.  
  
'What, exactly?' Regi asked from behind him.  
  
Pippin turned. 'Use your own discretion,' he said. 'Just remember that I dislike dust and clutter.'  
  
'Ah,' Regi answered. 'So good of you to give clear direction.' He eyed his cousin. 'What were your plans for this day?'  
  
Pippin stretched. 'I thought I would ride about, take a look, see what's changed.'  
  
'Nothing's changed, you ought to know that,' Regi said. 'Thain Paladin hated change.'  
  
'Well, then, I think I'll ride about, take a look, see what's unchanged.'  
  
The steward nodded. 'Give me a few moments to put together an escort for you.'  
  
Pippin raised his eyebrow. 'Escort?'  
  
Reginard smiled grimly. 'You're Thain, now, remember? You cannot go off alone any longer, you are a prisoner of your position.'  
  
'Is it too late to reconsider?' Pippin said.  
  
'I think so,' Regi answered. 'I'll be right back. Just make yourself at home, this will be your study now.' He turned and left.  
  
Pippin moved into the study. 'I can hardly imagine...' he said to himself. His father's pipe still rested in its accustomed place on the desk, as if the old Thain had put it down for a moment whilst attending to other business. When Pippin breathed deeply, he fancied he could smell a ghost of the richly scented smoke, mingled with the odors of dust, leather, and ink.  
  
'Well, Father,' he said softly. 'Neither of us thought this day would ever come.' He moved around the ornately carved desk to the great chair and stroked his hand along its back. 'I may not do things the way you did,' he said, 'as a matter of fact, you know that I will not; we've had enough discussions on the matter.' He eased himself into the chair and put his hands flat on the desk. '...but I hope the results will be satisfactory, for all that,' he added. Putting his elbows on the desk, he rested his head in his hands a moment, deep in thought. Then he straightened with a sigh. 'No use trying to relive the past,' he said softly. 'We must needs ride that pony for'ards, after all.' He rose from the desk as a tap came on the study door. 'Come!' he called.  
  
Reginard entered. 'Your escort awaits you in the yard, Sir,' he said. 'I will carry on here.'  
  
'You do that,' Pippin said. 'Carry a lot of things out, as well, while you are at it.' He walked out of the study, leaving Reginard to his task.  
  
He should not have been surprised to see Ferdibrand waiting with a few other Tooks and ponies. Trust Reginard to see to that detail. Everard was probably out in the fields, as Pippin recalled, he was in charge of the Thain's farmland.  
  
The new Thain greeted his escort with a nod, mounting Socks.  
  
'Where are we going, Sir?' Ferdibrand said stiffly.  
  
'Out and about,' Pippin answered. 'Socks here wants a bit of exercise, else he'll get restless and kick out his stall, and we cannot have that.'  
  
'No indeed,' Ferdi answered ironically. They moved out of the yard. It was a bright spring day, still quite chilly, and smoke rose from many of the chimneys in sight, adding a pleasant tang to the air.  
  
They rode without evident aim, along the streets of Tuckborough. Most of the hobbits who were out and about paid them little heed; the succession of the Thainship had only happened an hour earlier and the news had not yet spread.  
  
Pippin pulled his pony to a stop before a shabby dwelling where no smoke came from the chimney. Surprised, Ferdi waved the rest of the escort to a halt. 'We have business here?' he asked.  
  
'We might,' Pippin said noncommittally, sliding down from his pony to knock at the door. At a faint reply within, he entered, leaving Ferdi and the rest of the escort at a loss.  
  
Ferdi eased the door open, to see the Thain seating himself by the cold hearth, across from an elderly hobbit who was smoking a pipe.  
  
'A bit chilly this morning,' Pippin said casually.  
  
'O aye,' the hobbit nodded. 'Just a bit. My neighbor will be bringing some wood later on, with my elevenses. That'll bring some cheer.'  
  
Pippin pulled a pipe from a pouch that hung about his neck. 'Have you got any pipeweed to spare?' he said. The old hobbit nodded, holding out a slim pouch. Pippin filled his pipe, lighted it, and smoked companionably. 'Your neighbor brings wood?'  
  
'Aye,' the old hobbit said. 'Every day, she does. She's as good as a daughter to me. 'Twill be enough to last through the day, until I seek my bed. Her lad chops it up for me, builds the fire; all that I need do is throw another stick on the fire oncet in a while.'  
  
'Kind of her to share her wood with you, at the prices they're charging for wood these days,' Pippin said.  
  
'I used to chop my own wood, lad,' the old hobbit said. 'Many's the time I brought a wagonload to the neighbor's house, when Toby was laid up with his back. We worked on the roads together, and he lifted one load too many.'  
  
'How many days did you put in?' Pippin asked with interest.  
  
'I put in the full ten days every year,' the old hobbit said, 'and then I put in a few of Toby's days for him, as well.'  
  
'How much did it pay?'  
  
The other snorted. 'Pay? Thain Paladin expected everyone to pull his share.'  
  
'I thought road work was to pay a silver penny a day,' Pippin said.  
  
'Well, under the old Thain, perhaps, but Thain Paladin had other ideas,' the old hobbit said.  
  
Pippin glanced up at Ferdibrand in the doorway. 'Excuse me a moment,' he said to the gaffer. He got up, went to the door, said quietly, 'Cousin, I want you to go out and buy a cord of firewood, have it stacked under the eaves. The gaffer need not shiver through the mornings, waiting on his neighbor's kindness.'  
  
'But...' Ferdi said.  
  
Pippin grinned. 'The Thain's paying,' he said. 'He ought to have enough coin saved; seems he's not been paying for road work all these years.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdibrand said without expression. When he returned from his errand, he knocked and heard laughter within before the cracked voice of the old hobbit bid him enter.  
  
Pippin met his gaze, and Ferdi jerked his chin. Satisfied, the Thain nodded and turned back to his storytelling.  
  
'Anyhow, this hobbit was supposed to be doing road work, but he'd made a little too merry at his daughter's wedding the day before, and he was a miserable sight to be seen. He had to keep working as hard as he could, for fear the Thain's inspector would find him slacking on the job and fine him or assign him extra days' work on the road.'*  
  
'I can imagine,' the gaffer said. 'I stayed abed for two days after my own daughter married.'  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'Well, this young gentlehobbit came walking by and stopped to ask for a drink. Seeing the other's red eyes, he asked what was the trouble, and heard the whole story. Can you imagine...?'  
  
'What?' the gaffer said, leaning forward.  
  
'He laid his own cloak down behind a log, changed shirts with the hobbit, had the poor fellow lie down on the cloak, out of sight, and took up his shovel and wheelbarrow to carry the rocks from the pile and spread them upon the road.'  
  
'I cannot imagine,' the old hobbit said.  
  
'No, wait, the story gets better!' Pippin chuckled. Ferdi found himself interested in spite of himself.  
  
'The Thain's inspector came by and approved the young gentlehobbit's work, saying, "You keep this up; I wish all the hobbits of Tookland would work so well, the road would not need so much repair so often," and he gave the lad a nip from his own flask. The gentlehobbit thanked him for that, as you can imagine.'  
  
'I can hardly imagine,' the gaffer said. 'A gentlehobbit dirtying his hands that way? And doing a good job of it?'  
  
'O folk can surprise you,' Pippin said. 'As a matter of fact, a party of his cousins came by a bit later, and never took a second look at him.' He laughed heartily in remembrance. 'They were searching for him, you know, and there he was before their eyes but they never looked to see!'  
  
The old gaffer joined in the laughter. Just then the door opened and the old gaffer's neighbor entered timidly, basket on her arm, joined by her son who carried an armload of wood.  
  
She bobbed nervously to Ferdi, and bowed to Pippin, who rose courteously. 'Pardon me,' he said, 'I was just sharing a pipe with Mr Mugwort, here.' He turned to the gaffer with a bow and thanks for the pipeful.  
  
' 'Twas my pleasure, lad, and thankee for the story as well,' the old hobbit said. 'Welcome back anytime.'  
  
'I will keep that in mind whenever I run short of pipeweed,' Pippin said.  
  
As he was leaving, he heard the neighbor say, 'There's a cartload of firewood being stacked outside your door, Will, how did it come about?'  
  
Pippin turned to say, 'O, that's a back payment from the Thain, for all the work he's put in on the roads over the years.' He waved a hand in farewell, and she gasped to see the seal of the Thain on his finger. 'Come along, Ferdi, there's work to be done,' he said, and closed the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
*Author's note: Have you read John Buchan's "Thirty-nine Steps"? You're in for a treat, if you haven't, yet. 


	9. No Smoke without Fire

Chapter 9. No Smoke without Fire  
  
Ferdibrand was surprised to see the Thain turn his pony back towards the Smials and ride at a smart pace. As they pulled up before the entrance to the Smials, he slid down from the saddle and Ferdi thought he staggered slightly; when he turned back to address the escort he looked a bit pale. Ferdi wondered what was going on, and swung down off his own pony.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I want you to find out who in Tuckborough is in need of firewood,' he said. 'I'm sure you know what to look for.'  
  
'Sir?' Ferdi responded.  
  
'If it's a widow, find something she can trade for the wood, a few hours' work in the kitchen at the Smials, perhaps. If it's an old gaffer, find out how much time he's given to the Thain's projects. It ought to be ten days a year, that's the custom. Ten days' work ought to be worth a cartload of wood, wouldn't you say? Some of these old gaffers have quite a few cartloads due them. I cannot believe the Thain would knowingly let any of his people go cold or hungry.'  
  
'Cousin, are you all right?' Ferdi interrupted. Pippin did not look well to his eyes.  
  
'I am well enough,' Pippin answered. 'Very well indeed,' he amended, straightening. 'I expect a report from you later this day.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Ferdibrand nodded stiffly and stepped back. The Thain patted Socks on the nose and nodded to the stable lad to take him. He turned to walk into the Smials, the usual energy gone from his stride. Ferdibrand hesitated, then mounted his pony and led the escort out of the yard.  
  
When Pippin reached the Thain's study, he opened the door and sagged against the jamb. Regi looked up and sprang to his side, guiding him to the nearest chair.  
  
'What is it, cousin?' he asked urgently. The Thain was white, and gasped for breath, but waved him off. 'Should I get the healer?' he asked, to be answered by a violent shake of the head. 'A glass of water, then?' This was apparently acceptable, and he quickly poured out a glass and watched anxiously whilst his cousin sipped.  
  
It seemed to Regi a long time before the Thain's breath came more easily, but finally Pippin looked up again, saying, 'I aplogise for giving you a scare, Regi.'  
  
'What happened?'  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'I have been forcibly reminded why I gave up pipeweed in the first place.' He took his old pipe out of the pouch that hung from his neck, and getting up, set it on the mantel, next to the old Thain's pipe where Regi had laid it. 'I've carried this across Middle-Earth and back again,' he said. 'but I'm afraid this is where we must part ways.' He looked at Reginard ironically. 'It's such an inviting aroma, you know, when someone else is smoking, and you think, "What's the harm? Just one pipeful, is all..." But you cannot fool these lungs.' He patted his chest gently. 'They demand only the best, these days, and they know the difference between pure air and smoke, no matter how enticingly it may fall upon the nose.' He adjusted his father's pipe slightly. 'Well, we'll put these two old lads out to pasture, they can keep each other company in retirement.'  
  
'Are you sure you do not want the healer?' Reginard said.  
  
Pippin gave him a stern look. 'The fit has passed,' he said firmly. 'No need to call in a healer, besides, what would the talk be amongst the Tooks, Thain only one day and a healer needed already?' He tried to laugh. 'I'm fine, Regi, and I'll stay fine as long as I remember my limits.' He looked down for a minute, deep in thought, then said, 'You won't tell Diamond.' It was more statement than question.  
  
Regi let it pass. 'Did you want to send for her?' he said. 'Now that you know you are staying?'  
  
'Do we have a place for her?' Pippin asked.  
  
'The Thain's quarters,' Regi answered.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'I do not want my mother disturbed,' he said.  
  
The steward smiled. 'She's already moved herself out; had the servants coming and going all morning,' he said. 'The Thain's quarters are empty now.'  
  
'Truly empty?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Well, empty of hobbits, anyhow.' At Pippin's sharp gaze, he added, 'Perhaps not empty of... dust and clutter.'  
  
'You may send for Diamond,' Pippin said, 'but just make sure the clutter and dust are cleared away before she arrives. She's even worse than I am, and you do not want to try her temper.'  
  
'O?' Regi asked.  
  
The Thain nodded. 'I live in fear of the lass,' he said soberly, though a twitch of the lips betrayed him. 'As you ought to do.'  
  
'I will get right on it,' Regi promised. He added, 'Are you going to eat in the great room, or do you wish your nooning on a tray here in the study?'  
  
'I'm not hungry,' Pippin answered.  
  
'Come now, you've missed second breakfast and elevenses, already!' Reginard said, shocked. 'You have to eat something.'  
  
'You sound just like Diamond,' Pippin sighed. 'I'm sure the two of you will get along famously. Really, Regi,' he argued, 'you don't need to bother about it, just bring me something at teatime.'  
  
Reginard shook his head. 'I'll bring you something now,' he said stubbornly. 'A hobbit has got to eat.'  
  
'Just who is giving the orders here?' Pippin demanded.  
  
'Diamond,' Reginard said. 'She told me to make sure you eat regular meals.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin sighed. 'She's won you over already.'  
  
'I know which side my bread is buttered on,' Regi said. 'I won't be steward much longer if I lose Diamond's good opinion.'  
  
'Is that so?' Pippin asked.  
  
'O aye,' Regi nodded. 'She told me so, herself.' He almost... but not quite... smiled. 'Will there be anything else, Sir?'  
  
'Yes, I'd like to see the chief engineer and his assistant after they finish their nuncheon,' the Thain said, in as dignified a tone as he could manage.  
  
'Right,' Reginard said. 'That'll be Aldebrand and Samenthal,' he said. Pippin nodded, filing away the names for later reference. 'Anything else?'  
  
'No, that'll do for the nonce,' Pippin answered, then thought again. 'O, and I want you to send Everard to me as soon as he's back from the fields.'  
  
'Right,' Reginard said. 'Anything in particular you want him for?'  
  
'Does he like surprises?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Not particularly.'  
  
'Well, he might get one anyhow,' the Thain answered. 'Just tell him I want to see him.' Reginard nodded and returned to business, wondering just how the new Thain meant to deal with the steward's rebellious brother. 


	10. Changes in Tookland

Chapter 10. Changes in Tookland  
  
The great room was again crowded at the evening meal, full of curious Tooks who had not yet had an eyeful of the new Thain. They rose and bowed to acknowledge Pippin's entrance, and at his nod seated themselves. He felt many eyes upon him, but managed to chat nonchalantly with Eglantine on one side and Reginard on the other as the food was being served.  
  
When no one made a move to eat, he realised that all were waiting for him. It had been a long time since he'd eaten in the great room of the Smials, and he had forgot the rigid protocol that Thain Paladin had insisted upon. He picked up his fork... and motioned to the nearest server. The head server also hurried over, bowing obsequiously and inquiring in an anxious tone after the matter.  
  
'This fork is not clean,' Pippin said. 'I would like another.' The head server bowed again, took the fork, signalled to the other servers, who began collecting silver from the tables. The gathered hobbits sighed, realising what had happened, preparing themselves to wait out the delay whilst the silver was washed. They'd have to wait for the Thain and those at the head table to be served with freshly washed table settings first, of course, and then on down the long rows of tables. By the time the last hobbits received their place settings and their food, the Thain would be finished eating, and of course, once he stood up from the table, the meal would be over for all, whether they'd actually eaten or not.  
  
'Stop,' Pippin said firmly. The head server looked up, startled and apprehensive. What had he done wrong, now? There would be trouble enough for having overlooked a fork that was not quite sparkling, and at the Thain's place in the bargain. He wondered how long the lecture would be, and how much of a fine he must pay for his carelessness.  
  
All the servers had stopped, awaiting the Thain's command. The hobbits waiting for their meal stared as well. Pippin fixed the head server with his eye, saying clearly, 'There is no reason to wash all the silver, unless, of course, it is all in need of washing. Put back those settings. Bring me another fork. Serve the meal, you're keeping all of us waiting.'  
  
'Yes, Sir, right away, Sir,' the head server stammered, and all the servers sprang to comply. Pippin turned back to Eglantine, who was smiling, and resumed his account of his morning's work.  
  
Reginard broke in. 'You told Ferdi to supply wood to all the gaffers and widows in Tuckborough?' he asked, amazed. 'And the Thain is to pay for all?'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin answered. 'Since the Thain owns most of the forest in Tookland, I figure he can spare a bit of wood. Look at all the windfall we saw being gathered on the way here. That will be quite handy to keep the widows and gaffers warm next year, after a bit of seasoning, don't you think?' He remembered the hobbits waiting for their dinners, and picked up the freshly shined fork that had been put down a moment before, to take a bite of his food. 'And the gaffers have already paid for the wood, you know,' he said.  
  
'I know,' Reginard answered. 'Ferdi told me. A cartful of wood for each tenday of service to the Thain.'  
  
Pippin waved his fork. 'Or it could be apples, or vegetables, or chickens, even. Last I heard, you could get two chickens for a silver penny,' he said. 'Anyhow, I'm sure you can work out a fair exchange. We're not giving away charity, mind, and it is not to go to any who are able to work but don't care to put forth effort for one reason or another.' Regi nodded. This was a far cry from Thain Paladin's constant emphasis on achieving the best possible profit, but he liked what he was hearing, as long as Pippin didn't take things too far.  
  
Pippin talked more than he ate, Regi noticed. He had barely cleared half his plate when he picked up his serviette, dabbed at his mouth, and threw the cloth on the table. Instantly the buzz of conversation stopped, and the hobbits put down their forks and began to rise from the tables.  
  
Realising that he had cut short the meals of nearly everyone in the room, Pippin jumped to his feet and waved his arms, arresting everyone's attention. 'This is ridiculous,' he said just loud enough to reach the far tables. 'There is no reason for you to hurry your meal or leave good food to be wasted simply because your Thain has business elsewhere.' He scanned the room with a stern eye. 'Sit!' he commanded. 'If you are still hungry, finish your meal!' With a last glance around, he turned on his heel and left the room.  
  
Hobbits stood uncertain. Reginard pushed back his chair and stood. 'You heard the Thain!' he bellowed. Slowly, the diners resumed their seats, and their forks, and their conversations. The steward folded his serviette, placed it on the table, and followed the Thain from the room, catching up with him halfway to the study.  
  
'It's going to take us some time to get used to all these changes you're foisting off on us,' Regi said. 'Make haste a little more slowly, Pippin. My head is spinning.'  
  
'I will do my best,' Pippin answered. 'Wouldn't want you to get dizzy and fall down, now, would we?' They walked a few more steps, then he said, 'Where is Everard? I thought I asked you to send him to me.'  
  
'He hadn't come in from the fields yet when dinner was served,' Regi answered. 'It's planting time, you know, and he may stay out until darkness falls. I'll look for him now.'  
  
'You do that,' Pippin answered. 'I'll be in the study.' Reginard nodded and went in search of his brother.  
  
'Pippin wants to see me?' Everard said when Regi found him, grabbing a plate of leftover food in the kitchen amidst the clamour of washing-up. 'Whatever for?'  
  
'Thain Peregrin wants to see you,' Reginard said, emphasising the title. 'Watch your step, Ev'ard, he's not wee Pippin any longer.'  
  
'What can he do to me?' Everard snorted. 'Have me cast out of Tookland?' He began eating rapidly. A summons to the Thain, even an upstart, was not to be taken lightly, and the Thain was not to be kept waiting.  
  
'If he had a mind to, he could,' Regi said. 'Or he could just put you on bread and water rations for a time.'  
  
'I'd like to see him try,' Everard answered.  
  
'Don't try him,' Regi warned. 'He's old Paladin's son, after all. And Eglantine's, in the bargain.'  
  
'You might have a point there,' Everard said, sobering. 'I've always been a little afraid of Cousin Eglantine, I don't know exactly why.'  
  
'Don't push him,' Regi said. 'Listen to what he's got to say, and hold on to that temper of yours, little brother.'  
  
'I'll listen, all right,' Everard says. 'But I won't promise to hold my tongue.'  
  
'Why should you start now?' Reginard said, frustrated. 'Just be careful, is all I ask.' Everard nodded, took a last bite of his dinner, and headed to the study.  
  
He knocked, and heard the Thain's invitation to enter. Pippin motioned him to the chair by the desk, poured him a glass of ale, waited until he took a sip before saying anything more.  
  
'How is the planting coming along?'  
  
Everard put his glass down. 'The ground is still a bit wet,' he admitted, 'but I don't like to leave it until any later. We're behindhand as it is.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin answered, with a sip of his own ale. Putting down his glass, he leaned forward, to say slowly, 'Everard, however did you get stuck with the job of overseeing the farmlands?'  
  
Everard was taken aback. He wasn't sure where this was leading, but he did not like the sound of it. 'Thain Paladin assigned me to it, of course. He thought I was competent, the right hobbit for the job.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I remember the old days,' he mused. 'You hated everything to do with the garden, the hoeing, the planting, the weeding, even the harvest. As I recall you were not even that fond of berry picking, though it was a great time to fill our bellies and no one the wiser.'  
  
Everard decided to follow Reginard's advice and hold his tongue.  
  
Pippin continued. 'I remember, too, the excellent holes you dug. Didn't matter where, sandbank, or hill, or beneath the roots of a great tree in the woods, you always seemed to know just how to dig it out and brace it up so it wouldn't fall in.' His look grew faraway. 'I remember that hidey-hole you made for Ferdibrand, and the time he let me use it when Pervinca was looking for me...'  
  
'Was it the time you cut all the hair from her doll?' Everard asked. 'Or the time you decided to eat up all the candy she had set on the sill to cool?'  
  
'I don't remember,' Pippin said. 'It was some mischief or other.' He smiled in remembrance. 'In any event, Ev'ard, my point is, you have a gift for the ground. Not for planting and harvest, but for digging. Why aren't you an engineer?'  
  
Everard had no answer. He could not answer, without being disrespectful to the old Thain, who just happened to have been the new Thain's father.  
  
'I take it you had little choice in the matter,' Pippin said at last.  
  
'No choice, actually,' Everard admitted. Pippin nodded. He knew a lot about choices... and the feeling that there are none.  
  
'Do you like your work?' Pippin asked softly. As Everard started to answer, he held up a hand. 'Be honest now, cousin. If you had the choice, what would you choose?' Everard subsided, and the Thain nodded. 'I thought so.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Everard asked cautiously.  
  
'I'm thinking of putting your assistant in charge of the farmlands,' Pippin said. 'Would you say he's competent?'  
  
Everard nodded, his head spinning. 'What's to become of me, then?' he forced himself to ask, swallowing his pride.  
  
'It means starting over, I'm afraid,' Pippin said. 'Going from being in charge, to being an apprentice all over again, but I think you'll be able to work your way up quickly enough, with your natural gifting.' He smiled at his cousin's dumbfounded look. 'I'd like you to think about being an engineer.'  
  
'An... engineer?' Everard breathed.  
  
'Aye,' Pippin nodded. 'I'm sending Aldebrand and Samenthal and a couple of the apprentices to Brandy Hall, to learn a few things of Doderic Brandybuck. He's discovered ways to use black powder in his excavations, you know, what Gandalf used to use in his fireworks; anyhow, he's found some uses for it. I thought it might be good for the engineers here in Tuckborough to look into it.'  
  
'What does that have to do with me?' Everard said, still confused.  
  
'I'd like you to go along, of course,' Pippin said. 'If you're at all interested in being an engineer, that is.'  
  
'Interested...' Everard echoed. Pippin nodded. Everard felt a great grin spreading across his face. 'When do we leave?' he asked eagerly. 'I cannot wait to get started...' 


	11. Settling In

A Word or Three from Our Sponsor...  
  
Xena, Pansy Chubb: Thank you for your faithful reviews. I love your comments.  
  
Pansy, I've never smoked but my dad quit cigarettes on the day my uncle died of lung cancer. He switched to cigars for a time (yech) and finally a pipe. I still remember the rich smell of his pipe tobacco.  
  
Lizmybit: welcome! Hope to hear more from you!  
  
Dana - your encouragement has been a great help! Looking forward to your comments.  
  
Hai - Thank you for the kind words. Yes, there is an order, these are all the same hobbits I'm writing about in all my stories, on a timeline that stretches from before the Quest until Pippin and Merry go to Gondor. There are a few inconsistencies from story to story, I fear, as they keep on evolving and growing, and I keep finding yet another layer or undiscovered fact in the Professor's world, but I try to keep those down and go back and edit earlier stories to fit, as much as possible.  
  
If you are following the story in "At the End of His Rope", you may look for a new chapter every day this week, I have written a little ahead. FireStorm is taking more time, as I am still doing research, but I hope to add a new chapter at least every other day, unless the Muse gets out the firehose again and starts pouring out ideas faster than I can type them.  
  
And now, back to the story, wherein the Tooks see another side of their new Thain...  
  
***  
  
Chapter 11. Settling In  
  
Reginard Took entered the Thain's study with a wide smile on his face. 'The coach with your family is approaching,' he announced.  
  
The Thain looked up from the desk with a grin of his own. 'Truly?'  
  
The steward nodded. 'One of the outriders galloped ahead to notify the Smials of their arrival.'  
  
'Well, then, what are we waiting for?' Pippin rose quickly from the desk and was out the study door, heading for the main entrance. Regi had to run faster than his dignity normally allowed to catch up.  
  
The news had spread through the Smials like puffpenny seeds on a windy day, and a large gathering of Tooks waited in the yard as the coach pulled in, ponies tossing their heads and stepping proud, harness gleaming, tiny bells making music of every motion.  
  
A servant opened the coach door and as the Thain reached the coach, a small body launched itself into his arms with a shout, causing the Thain's laughter to ring out above the welcoming cries of the crowd. There was a fierce mutual hug, a moment when eye gazed earnestly into eye, and then with a last squeeze, the father placed the little son on the ground beside him, with a 'Wait here, until I properly greet your Mum' and a firm nod from the lad.  
  
Pippin reached into the coach to hand out his wife, as many eyes watched, avid for their first glimpse of the Mistress of Tookland. She was simply dressed, as was her wont, and there were many more flashily or extravagantly clad there than Diamond, though the sharper-eyed in the crowd could see the fine material and skillful workmanship that had gone into her covering.  
  
She stepped lightly down beside him, and he smiled into her eyes, murmuring, 'It has been too long, my dear.'  
  
All was in readiness for her arrival. The Thain's quarters had been stripped of all its contents, every surface washed and freshly painted, carpets taken out and beaten clean, the removed room contents evaluated for worthiness and select items put back, with every piece of furniture that could be polished, coaxed to a high glow, and all the soft furnishings re- covered in the colours the Thain had specified as preferred by his wife. The rooms were still spare looking, for much of the decor had been left for Diamond's own finishing touches. There remained not a speck of dust or clutter in the Thain's private apartments.  
  
As the Thain gazed into his wife's face, his sharp ears heard a hissed, 'Farmer's daughter!' and a titter from someone else. Immediately his face changed. He gave his wife's hand a squeeze and stepped slightly away, turning towards the crowd.  
  
Regi stiffened as he might before a fast-approaching thunderhead filled with lightning, and he was reminded of the old Thain's quick-burning fury. The steward braced himself for the shouts of abuse old Paladin had heaped upon his relatives when roused, but the son's anger burned cold, sharp and hard like a blade unsheathed, glittering at the ready, and his voice when he spoke was low, yet clearly heard by each hobbit in the courtyard.  
  
'Who said that?' he said slowly, and then shook his head, contempt dripping from his voice. 'No, I don't want to know.' He surveyed the crowd, and the nearest stepped back a pace before the intensity of his gaze. 'Did you forget that my father, Paladin Took, was a farmer before he became Thain? He was one of the hardest-working hobbits it was ever my honour to know. I assume that is one of the reasons old Ferumbras III tapped him to become Thain after himself. Give me a farmer any day, who is proud to work at honest labour with his hard-calloused hands, over a rich, spoiled sycophant with soft white hands. You think yourself above a mere farmer?' He took a deep breath, and continued. 'What would you eat, were it not for the farmers who raise your food? What would you wear? What would you ride, if there were no farmer to breed and train your ponies? Where would the wood come from, that you burn to keep yourself warm and comfortable whilst the farmer is out labouring in his fields and woods?'  
  
There was not a sound from the crowd. The Thain shook his head in disgust. 'Should I ever hear such a sentiment expressed again... ' he said, letting the threat hang before continuing. 'Anyone who thinks himself above those hobbits who work with their hands is not worthy of the name Took, and your sort is not needed in Tookland.' He surveyed the frozen faces before him a moment longer, then gave a sharp nod, lightning again hidden, blade once more in the sheath. Turning back to his wife, he took her arm with great courtesy, smiled into her understanding eyes, said gently, 'Welcome to the Smials, my dear. I hope you will be very happy here. We have done all we can think of to ensure your comfort.'  
  
'Thank you, my love,' she answered with a smile of her own, then reached down a hand to young Faramir. 'Come, Son, let us see our new home.'  
  
The crowd watched silently as the Thain escorted his wife into the Smials with as much care as if she were made from rare glass blown by Elven smiths. Regi exhaled, realising only then that he had been holding his breath. He knew now, without a doubt, that just as with old Thain Paladin, he hoped that Thain Peregrin's anger would never in his lifetime be directed at himself. 


	12. From Little

12. From Little...  
  
"From little sparks great wildfires grow." --Shire proverb  
  
Five hobbit lads, flushed with triumph, emerged from their early-morning raid on a mushroom field into the woods near Tookbank. A mixture of brothers and cousins, the young Tooks went to their favourite hiding-spot near the stream, by the broken off stump of a great tree that had rotted away years earlier.  
  
'It's dry enough, we need to build the fire nearer the water,' the eldest said importantly, 'so's we can put it out quickly if a wind kicks up.' He kicked at the ring of rocks outlining their usual firepit.  
  
'There won't be any wind 'til later,' the cousin nearest his age argued. It always rankled that the eldest took charge in all things; he'd probably claim all the biggest mushrooms in the bargain.  
  
'We shall build the fire near the water,' the eldest said slowly, emphasising each word. 'And you can go home if you don't want to play.' He grasped the bag of mushrooms more tightly, and the younger cousins hastened to scrape away the soil and grass from a spot nearer the stream, and kindle a fire there. 'Twas a grand feast they had, with purloined bacon from the pantry and the plunder of mushrooms, all roasted on sticks over the fire, washed down with water from the stream.  
  
A thin call sounded on the breeze, and the eldest jerked upright. 'That's Mum!' he said. 'Quick, we've got to get back or we'll miss breakfast!' He shoved his last mushroom in his mouth and began to kick dirt over the fire. 'Well, come on you lot, what're you waiting for?' he barked to his cousins and little brothers. They all helped shove dirt onto the fire. As the eldest turned to the stream, to scoop up water in his hat to make sure of the fire's dousing, he was arrested by a cry from the youngest.  
  
'Race you! Last one back has to wash the dishes!' the little one shouted as he leapt up and began to run. Too true, the last one at the table had to help the sisters with the dishwashing afterwards whilst the other lads got to do more exhilarating work out of doors. The eldest hesitated, but as all the younger hobbits took off, threatening to make him the last, he shook the water from his hat, clapped it on his head, and sprinted to catch up. He had only to pass the slowest runner and he'd be washing no dishes that day...  
  
Under the cover of dirt, the coals of the little fire glowed, eating down into the large root that crossed under the impromptu firepit. Finding the dry, dead wood to its liking, the fire began to eat its way up the root, towards the main body of the tinder-dry stump.  
  
***  
  
It had been a long, hot, dry summer, and the Thain was grateful for the rainy spring. The crops were growing well, thanks to their good start, and it looked as if harvest might even be a little early this year.  
  
He had been confirmed by the hobbits of the Shire at the Tookland Pony Races and Mid-year's celebration, held on the First of June so as not to conflict with the Lithedays' fair held each year at Michel Delving. Half of Brandy Hall had attended, and the Mayor of the Shire had done the honours, grinning proudly at Pippin. 'Never thought I'd see the day,' Samwise said under cover of the cheering crowd.  
  
'Never?' Pippin said back.  
  
Sam shook his head. 'After that last stunt you pulled in Tuckborough, I thought they'd never let you in again, much less make you Thain.'  
  
Pippin laughed and said, 'It was half Merry's fault, you know.'  
  
'And they've never let me into Tookland since, until today...' Merry said.  
  
'It helps to have friends in high places,' Pippin said solemnly. He gave the Mayor a nudge. 'You're neglecting your duties,' he said. 'It's time for you to open the festivities. People can't stand around cheering for the Thain all day, no matter how pleasantly it rings upon the ear.'  
  
'What are you thinking about, my love?' Diamond said, bending to plant a kiss as she picked up his breakfast tray.  
  
'About how easy it is to neglect one's duties,' he said, looking up with a smile.  
  
'Anyone in particular?' Diamond asked.  
  
'Yes, my steward.'  
  
Regi looked up. 'What have I done now?' he said  
  
'It's what you haven't done,' the Thain chided him. 'I wanted that report on crop readiness yesterday. You've been spending all your time watching those engineers again, haven't you?'  
  
'Well, you wanted a report on how they were working with that black powder they brought back from Buckland,' Regi said.  
  
'And how long does it take to talk to them and write out what they tell you?' Pippin asked.  
  
'I needed to watch a bit, get a better idea of what they were talking about,' the steward defended himself.  
  
Pippin smiled. He'd been fascinated with the black powder, himself, when he'd been steward of Buckland and the King had sent Merry information on the stuff. Gandalf had given the King the secret of the powder before passing over the Sea, that fireworks should not disappear from Middle-earth with him. The King had thought that the peaceable hobbits could be trusted with the secret, and that the stuff might come in handy in their excavations. Though dwarves were diggers as well as hobbits, they were a shade too aggressive to be given the powder, the King had decided, and they might scorn its use in any event, considering the care they took plying their hammers in the crystal caves.  
  
Funny how the stuff burned with a quick hot flame in the open air, but cage it, put it in a box, and it exploded violently. Doderic had experimented, and Pippin had stolen time from his duties as steward to watch as often as he could. It was dangerous stuff, but then so many useful things were dangerous. Take a knife, for example. You could carve a toy for a wee hobbit, or cut your meat, or stick yourself seriously enough to need a healer. And fire could keep you warm, or cook your food, or light your pipe, or burn the life out of you were you to treat it casually.  
  
'So has anyone blown himself to pieces yet?' the Thain enquired.  
  
'You know Aldebrand is more careful than that. And Everard seems to have a real gift.'  
  
'With his explosive temper, he ought to feel right at home with the stuff,' Pippin answered. 'Now let's get to work. Time is wasting, and teatime will be here before you know it.' He looked up at Diamond. 'What are we having for tea this day?' he asked.  
  
'It's such a lovely day, I thought we'd take Faramir on a picnic,' she answered.  
  
'Lovely,' he said. 'We can go to the little pool and teach the lad to swim.'  
  
'Swim!' Reginard said, alarmed.  
  
'O aye,' the Thain said, eyeing his steward with amusement. 'Every Brandybuck knows how to swim, you know. Should we let them get ahead of the Tooks?' He looked back down at the stack of papers before him. 'Let's get to business, you know I won't work past teatime.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Regi answered. That was one custom of old Thain Paladin's that his son had chosen to continue. Reginard rather enjoyed having the afternoons free, himself. There was a certain lass in Tuckborough whose family he'd been taking tea with, now, and he'd beaten her father at Kings several times in the past week. He figured he'd soften him up a bit more, then ask him for his daughter's hand. Autumn, when the leaves turned to gold and scarlet flame, was a fine time for a wedding... 


	13. Sparks

13. ...Sparks...  
  
The fire was neither patient nor impatient, having no feelings to speak of, but it was steady, and rather slow, for little enough air could reach it, just enough to keep it smouldering away, working towards the body of the old stump, with too little vigour to give off enough smoke for anyone to notice. Slowly, ever so slowly, it journeyed towards light and air and life.  
  
***  
  
The picnic was eaten, and the Thain lay on his back on the grass, pointing out shapes in the clouds to his small son, telling outrageous stories as Diamond chimed in with an idea of her own, or a chuckle.  
  
'Will it rain, Da?' the lad asked suddenly.  
  
'O no, Son, those are not rainclouds,' Pippin answered. 'More's the pity. We've had no rain to speak of this summer.'  
  
'It's too late for rain to do any good,' Diamond put in. 'Harvest is upon us, too late to water the crops now... 'twould just spoil the hay were it to rain, and a hard rain or hail would spoil the wheat, you know.'  
  
'I should put you in charge of the farming,' he told her.  
  
She smiled. 'Just being in charge of the Thain is enough work for me, thank you very much,' she said tartly. 'You have very fine farmers working for you, as you are never tired of reminding your high-minded Took relations.'  
  
'I'm hot,' Faramir said.  
  
The Thain looked at his wife, who nodded. 'Enough time has passed,' he said, 'I think we'll swim now.'  
  
Faramir grinned. 'I like the pool!' he said with enthusiasm. 'The little fishes tickle my toes!'  
  
'You just keep wiggling those toes so they don't tickle them right off,' his father warned. 'They might think your toes are worms.'  
  
'They don't have big enough mouths,' the lad said practically. 'All they can do is tickle. I'll let them practice on my toes so that when they grow up they'll know what to do with a worm on a hook.'  
  
'Good lad, you do that!' his father laughed. They stripped down to their underclothing and jumped into the little pool for a glorious splash and duck and tickle, while Diamond laughed from the bank and dabbled her feet.  
  
'Won't you come in, my dear?' the Thain called.  
  
'Not on your life, 'tis too cold for my blood!' she laughed back. 'You must be part fish!'  
  
'Well, that makes our son part fish as well,' the Thain said, 'and so I must needs catch him!' With a roar he splashed after Faramir, who dived under the water to get away, swimming along the bottom with his father in splashing pursuit.  
  
'Not fair!' Pippin laughed when Faramir surfaced. 'You can swim faster than I can run!'  
  
'I'm a fish!' Faramir shouted. 'You'll have to get an elf to catch me!'  
  
'Or a bigger fish!' his father called in reply, and dove into the water. Before Faramir could get away, his father had grabbed him, stood up, and tossed him high in the air, squealing with glee. Catching him again, the father said, 'But I think our little fish has had enough of the water this day.'  
  
'No!' protested the son, not realising his lips were blue and his teeth chattering.  
  
'O aye,' said the father. 'You're as cold as a real fish. Come, Diamond, let's wrap him up and bake him in the sun a bit.'  
  
Diamond had a blanket ready, and she wrapped it around her shivering son and laid him down in the warm sunlight. He soon fell asleep, and she stroked his wet hair back from his forehead and smiled.  
  
'Another gold coin in his treasure box,' she murmured.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'It has been a good day, hasn't it?' He lay back in the sun himself, closing his eyes, letting the warmth soak into him.  
  
'How are things going?' Diamond asked softly.  
  
'Ah, they are going along,' Pippin answered, not opening his eyes. 'I'm still Thain, at the moment.'  
  
'Well, that's nice, I suppose,' she said. 'Was there any question?'  
  
'The first year is the hardest, I hear. You have to go so carefully. You do something the same way the old Thain did, they ask why they need a Thain in the first place, with things just going on as they always did. You try to make a change, they say, "But that's not the way Thain Paladin did things!" '  
  
Diamond laughed. Pippin went on. 'It's been a dry summer. If it's a bad harvest, I'll get the blame.'  
  
'You really ought to have ordered more rain,' she said. '...but if it is a good harvest, won't they give you the credit?'  
  
He opened one eye at her. 'You jest,' he said. Closing his eye again, he sighed. 'There's still talk about my fitness, you know.' He imitated an old gaffer, overheard in the marketplace. ' "He limps! How can he be a Thain with a gimpy leg?" ' He changed his voice to a low growl, ' "Aye, and his lungs, they're bad to boot. I hear a cold nearly carried him off last month." ' He snorted. 'Every cough is pneumonia, and every sneeze a death knell.'  
  
Diamond said nothing, having found the heavy cold of the previous month rather worrisome, herself.  
  
'It's like riding a greased pig without a saddle or bridle, you lose your balance for a second and you'll slip off.' He referred to a popular sport at the Mid-year's Day celebration, the greased pig race, wherein the rider not only had to guide the pig across the finish line but had to manage the feat without falling off the slippery surface.  
  
'And did you know...?' he continued, and sighed. 'Hah. I almost wish it were true.'  
  
'What?' Diamond said.  
  
'We're off to Gondor next week,' he opened his eye again at her gasp and grinned at her, 'or so I hear.' He stretched. 'O yes,' he nodded solemnly. 'Once a Took goes off to foreign parts, he's never the same, you know. Can't hardly settle down again, should he come back home at all. And a Took who's rubbed shoulders with outlandish folk such as elves and dwarves and Big People... well...' He closed the eye and sighed again.  
  
Diamond shook her head sadly. 'O I know,' she said softly. 'There's absolutely no use hoping for them at all, they're lost. Hopelessly lost. Might as well light a candle for them on Remembering Day. They'll never come back.'  
  
He opened both eyes. 'I came back!' he protested.  
  
She smiled down into his face, dropped a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, and sat up again with a teasing grin. 'When have you ever done what was expected of you?' she said fondly. 


	14. Great Wildfires Grow

Pansy: Ah, yes, I am being literal. Getting more literal with each chapter, as you shall see.

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Xena: Thanks for the feedback, especially the comments on your perception of the relationships. That is exactly what I am trying to establish... Pippin is a great father, taking all the good points of his own father and trying to leave the bad. (Don't we all do that?) And Diamond has never been one to keep her thoughts to herself, and they are usually pretty well-formulated thoughts, the lass has a fine head on her shoulders and was brought up right by sensible Farmer and Mistress Took (see "Jewels" for more details).

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Dana: Thanks for helping me hammer out that wording. The Thain would never sound whiny, even in jest.

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Frodo: Thanks for the encouragement!

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Did I miss anybody? Thanks for the reviews, they have greased the wheels nicely. Or should I say added fuel to the fire?

***

**14. ...Great Wildfires Grow**  
  
The root of the old stump thickened, providing more fuel for the fire to chew on, and soon a real feast presented itself. The root crossed and was crossed by other roots, for many trees grew there, sending roots to seek the water of the stream. Some of the wood was dead and dry, some green and living, stubbornly resisting the fire, but burning after enough time and heat were applied. The fire grew many fingers and spread itself, still hidden beneath the ground, but growing, seeking, moving ever closer to the air that would fan it to bright blazing life.  
  
***  
  
The cow with the crooked horn had strayed again, and Blossom had been sent in search. She found hoofprints in the dust, leading towards the little stream where her brothers liked to play, and smiled. A tuft of shaggy hair on a tree at the lip of the valley confirmed her guess. 'Crumpet!' she called. 'Come along, old lass! Why do you wander in the wood when I've so much work to do and no time to be chasing an old carline?' There was no answer, but she fancied she heard the tinkle of the cow's bell, so she followed the path into the wood, and down to the stream.  
  
'Crumpet!' she called again, and was rewarded by a lowing sound, and the shaggy brown shape of the hobbit-sized hillcow came into sight down by the sparkling stream. Skipping forward, she ran to the beast and seized one of the horns. 'There you are!' she scolded, but the gentle eye regarded her calmly and the head rubbed against her hand, and she couldn't help but laugh. 'No, I _won't_ give you a carrot,' she said, trying to be stern, but spoiling it with a smile. 'Not until after we get back to the byre, anyhow.'  
  
Her nose wrinkled and she sniffed. What was that smell? Nothing she'd smelled by the stream lately, at least, not since their da had scolded the lads for having fires down in their play-place in this dry weather. She went to the fire circle and held her hand above the blackened wood. No heat. She cautiously touched the wood and ashes, and finding none, gingerly raked her fingers through to find no trace of heat. No fire had been there in quite awhile, from the way the ashes blew apart under her touch. She rubbed the black from her fingers on the grass and frowned. The ground felt... warm, somehow. The smoky smell was growing stronger.  
  
Just then the cow rolled her eye and tossed her head, with a worried sound low in her throat. Blossom stood and quickly grabbed at the horn again. 'Steady, old girl,' she said. 'It's all right...' her eye was caught by motion above, and she looked up to see smoke in the sky. As she watched, the old stump smoked more vigorously, and suddenly flames burst from the top, some feet above her head. 'O no,' she gasped. Grasping the shaggy hair of the cow, she pulled herself onto the beast's back and kicked it hard with her heels.  
  
'Home, Crumpet!' she cried, and a little of her panic was transmitted to the cow. Old Crumpet began to lumber up the slope, gathering speed as the smell of smoke grew stronger, achieving an awkward gallop when she emerged from the wood, heading as quickly as her shaggy legs would take her to the safety of her byre.  
  
***  
  
A stable lad brought a panting farm lad at a run to the Thain's study, bursting through the door without knocking. Before any could reprimand them, they both burst out with "Fire!"  
  
The Thain was on his feet in an instant. 'Where?' he snapped. From the lads' panic it must be bad.  
  
'Tookbank Farm,' the farm lad gasped. 'In the bottomland just by Tookbank. My da and my brothers are fighting it but 'tis too big and spreading fast. We've roused the hobbits of Tookbank but we need more.'  
  
'Which way is the wind blowing?' the Thain demanded sharply.  
  
The farm lad took a deep breath. 'Towards Tookburough,' he said, dread in his eyes. 'I rode as fast as the pony would go... Da said if the afternoon winds kick up it'll roar right over the hills to the Smials.' The Great Smials itself would not be much affected, but the wood and stone structures of Tookburough with their roofs of thatch would be devastated, hundreds of hobbits left homeless.  
  
'How many farmsteads between Tookbank and here?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Three,' the Steward answered.  
  
'The farmers are out plowing firebreaks around their buildings,' the lad said, 'but the fire will come across the bottoms; it was crowning in the treetops when I left, and sparks were blowing into the fields.'  
  
'Everard?' the Thain said. The steward's brother had been reporting to the Thain on the engineers' work with the black powder, but he knew the farms around Tookland like the fur on his feet.  
  
'It'll come across the fields and the bottoms; we'll have to have a wide line to stop it. Plowing firebreaks should go quickly enough, but in the trees... clearing underbrush takes time...'  
  
'We don't have time,' Reginard said. 'If the winds kick up...'  
  
'They will, in a matter of hours,' the Thain said.  
  
'Black powder,' Everard broke in. The others looked at him, dumbfounded. 'It burns fast and hot,' he said, his words spilling out faster in his excitement. 'We can use it to set backfires, burn out the brush in the bottoms before the fire gets here, fell the trees in the firebreak, let the backfire burn them, rake the ground bare. Deny it the fuel and you'll stop it.'  
  
The Thain and Steward went to the map on the wall, though they knew the country intimately. 'Where?' Pippin said.  
  
Everard moved to his side. 'If it's too close to the head of the fire, flames will jump the break before it's finished,' he said.  
  
'Where, then?' Pippin said. His experience with brush fires was wielding a pick or shovel under someone else's direction.  
  
Everard hesitated, then placed a finger on Tuckborough, moved slowly back towards Tookbank, not far enough, really, and stopped.  
  
'That close?' the Thain gasped.  
  
The last ridge before the Smials. If the fire jumped the break, there would be no more chances; the flames would race up the great hill and over and into Tuckborough faster than any pony could run.  
  
====  
  
Author's Note: Crumpet is a fine specimen of Highland Cattle, a small breed of cow known for gentleness, bred for both milk and meat. "Carline" is Scots for "old woman", or so I'm told on good authority. No, hobbits aren't Scottish, last I heard, but it is a charming little word. (Thanks, Cerridwen for supplying the word! O... and while we're at it, check out her stories.)  
  



	15. Firestorm

Chapter 15. Firestorm  
  
Once the fire loosed its bonds and found air, it grew rapidly, blossoming and casting its seeds of sparks upon the light breeze. The fire paid no heed to the sweating hobbits labouring upon its flanks; none dared to stand before it, to challenge the advancing head. Inexorably it moved forward, devouring all in its path, sending banners of smoke high in the air to proclaim victory. When it reached the first firebreak, plowed around a farmstead, it was not stymied nor stopped, it simply felt its way along the edges of the plowed ground until it found clear sailing again. The questing fingers it sent across the firebreak were quickly beaten out with shovels and wet sacks, but no matter. There was plenty more fuel for the burning, and the fire gathered strength and vigour once it had passed around the first farmstead.  
  
The farmer and helpers beat out the last sparks and straightened, wiping soot and sweat from their faces. Sunnybank Farm had been saved, at the least. They turned to watch the fire, now beyond them, on its steady march towards Tuckborough.  
  
***  
  
The Thain gave quick orders. 'Ferdi, take all the plows and teams you can gather to the top of the ridge, start plowing the firebreak. Have crews ready to set backfires as soon as you have a wide enough strip. Ev'ard, tell Aldebrand and Samenthal the plan, load casks of black powder onto ponies; I don't think you'll get wagons into the woods. Take a horn with you, blow it when you see the fire approaching, to give warning to the crews in the woods.'  
  
He turned to the stable lad. 'Call the head forester, tell him to get crews out to the woods to cut a firebreak. You know where to send him?' The lad nodded, he'd looked carefully at the map as the plans were rapidly formulated.  
  
'Regi,' the Thain said, 'you see to the safety of the people. Send to Tuckborough, get everyone to the Smials. Make sure no one is left behind, some will need to be carried, you know. There's no time to gather possessions, the fire could be upon us in an hour if the wind comes up. Once you've cleared Tuckborough, send everyone who can wield a shovel to the firelines.'  
  
He took the farm lad by the shoulder. 'Thanks for the warning,' he said. 'You've won us a bit of time with your fast riding.' The lad nodded. 'Now I want you to go to the stables, tell them to start wetting down the thatch on the stables and barns with buckets of water.' He released the lad, who took off at a run.  
  
'Regi,' the Thain said, 'Tell Old Tom to pick the best of the livestock, get them into the Smials. The rest...' He paused, swallowed hard, momentarily sick at the thought of the barns burning with the helpless animals trapped within. 'Turn the rest loose. They'll have more chance, running before the flames, than tied in stalls.'  
  
'Will I find you here?' Reginard asked the Thain.  
  
Pippin looked surprised. 'I'll be with the engineers,' he said. 'That's the point of most danger, they'll need quick decisions made before the hour's out.'  
  
'I don't like it,' Regi said. 'I'll go to the woods; why don't you get the people out of Tuckborough?' He wanted the Thain in the safest place, of course, if there was any safety to be found in this situation.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'They'll listen better to you than to me,' he said. 'Half of them still think you're Thain, you know, and that I just carry the seal around to spare your hand the weight.' Sudden steel came into his voice, and he said, 'But why are we wasting time and breath? Let's go!'  
  
***  
  
Reginard, having seen the emptying of Tuckborough well underway, had climbed to the top of the hill that contained the Great Smials, and he had a panoramic view of the fire. He could see the advancing line of flames, the land green and gold before them, smoking black behind, the oasis of the closest farmstead as the flames burned around the plowed firebreak. He could see Ferdi's crews, the firebreak growing longer and wider behind the plows. Looking down into the woods, he fancied he saw work progressing there, as treetops shuddered. Yes, trees were falling. He hoped they were taking care that no one got caught under.  
  
The gently teasing breeze paused a moment, as if for a breath, and then the wind picked up, puffs of wind becoming a steady blow. As the steward watched in horror, the line of flames became a towering wall and its leisurely progress became a race. He saw the tiny figure that was Ferdi, watching from ponyback, lift something, and the sound of a horn came dim to his ears. Figures with torches sprang across the firebreak to set backfires, while others stood ready to turn back any flames that might try to cross the break. He saw Ferdi turn the pony from the ridge and kick it into a run, down towards the woods.  
  
***  
  
The Thain seemed to be everywhere. He watched the engineers laying the line of black powder and placing the oiled candlewicking fuses along its length. He conferred with the crews cutting and raking away underbrush. He even pulled an unwary worker from the path of a falling tree, cautioning the foresters to work more carefully. 'It's as bad to be crushed beneath a tree as to be burned up,' he shouted. Once he was satisfied that all were working as efficiently as possible, he stepped back to watch for trouble. The work was slow; you do not cut a forest down in a day, working with hand tools, but that wouldn't stop the Tooks from trying.  
  
He jerked at the faint call of the horn, and shouted to Aldebrand, 'We're out of time! They're setting the backfire upon the ridge. The fire must be nearly upon us!'  
  
The chief engineer waved back, and his crew redoubled their efforts. They had nearly completed the line, the last fuses were being laid when Ferdi rode up on his lathered pony, jumping down to gasp, 'Fire's coming fast! Got to get the workers out if you're not ready.'  
  
'Aldi!' the Thain shouted. A wisp of smoke from the advancing fire blew over them and he coughed, feeling the warning tightness in his chest. The chief engineer waved, and raised his own horn. At the blast, the workers retreated to a safe distance as they'd been instructed before the work started. Hobbits with tapers ran forward to light the fuses. The hobbits watched in suspense as the flames raced along the candlewicking to the line of powder, then with an enormous whoosh the powder went up in blistering heat and flame and billows of white smoke which enveloped the watchers and rose to the skies.  
  
As the smoke cleared, a cheer went up from the watching hobbits to see the blackened ruin left behind. 'Rake it all out!' Everard shouted. 'Down to bare earth!'  
  
Ferdibrand felt a clutch at his arm and turned to Pippin. The Thain had his other fist pressed to his chest, his face was white, eyes staring, mouth open in desperate effort to breathe. More smoke was blowing towards them from the fire, and Ferdi felt his own throat closing in protest. He caught the staggering Thain, threw him across the pony's back, mounted, and kicked the pony into a run, away from the smoke, in search of clearer air. 


	16. Another Kind of Explosion

Chapter 16. Another Kind of Explosion  
  
Conversation was lively down at the Spotted Duck, on the outskirts of Tuckborough, and the beer flowed freely. When Everard Took entered with a few others from the Smials, he was hailed as a hero and showered with mugs of beer, which he accepted with a tired grimace that might pass for a grin, before lapsing into morose silence at a table in a dark corner, to sip and watch and listen.  
  
The fire had been stopped on the ridge short of the Smials, and in the bottomland by the miracle of the black powder. The firebreaks had held back the body of the fire, and the hobbits had been able to deal with what sparks blew over the breaks. Even though the cooler evening air and dying of the wind had eased the tension somewhat, the danger was not over, not by any means. They'd have to keep watching for flare-ups and hot spots, especially the next day, when the afternoon winds picked up again.  
  
The fire had burned across nearly ten miles of Tookland, from just outside of Tookbank almost to Tuckborough, but it could have been worse, O so much worse, indeed. Everard thought of the thatched roofs on the buildings, and the fierceness of the flames they had faced, and he shuddered. There had been no loss of life, though some of the firefighters had suffered burns, and quite a few were abed, smoke-filled lungs straining to take in air, while the healers tried to soothe them with herbs and vapors. Worst off, of course, was the Thain, propped up in his bed, fighting for every breath.  
  
Everard sipped at his beer and listened to the talk around him.  
  
'...and I thought my guts would freeze when he blew the horn and they sprang to set the backfire! 'Tis not wide enough, I said to myself, the backfire will jump the line for sure, and we'll be caught between two infernos, and we did have to step lively indeed, to beat out the sparks that blew acrost...'  
  
'...like magic it were, a line of powder black as night, but flaring up in hot flame and white smoke...'  
  
'Did ye hear if Sunnybank Farm survived? My cousin's wife's nephew married one of the daughters there.'  
  
'Aye, they plowed around the buildings and the fire went round.'  
  
'...and I hear he took a lungful.'  
  
'Aye. They say he's dyin'.'  
  
Everard turned his head sharply to catch more of the conversation to his right.  
  
'Pity, seemed he was working out to be a good un,' an old gaffer said.  
  
'Arrr, Regi's been Thain all along, y'know. Lad's dyin', 'tis a shame for sure, but Regi'll step up and things'll go on same as they always did. No great loss.'  
  
'Loss to his wife, mebbe,' the gaffer rebuked.  
  
'O aye, didn't mean no disrespect.' The speaker took a deep draught of ale and continued. 'But did he have to loose all the animals in the stables and barns? We'll be days finding them all again.'  
  
Another chuckled. 'I heared there was a muckle of a mess in the Smials after they brought out the prize livestock again... a lot of scrubbing of floors and all...'  
  
'The Missus said they was packed into the Smials like apples in a box,' another said. 'She would fain be on the firelines rather than jammed in that tight, she swan.'  
  
'Ah, well. They didn't know if'n it could be stopped, now, did they?' the gaffer put in again. 'And it mightn't have been, if not for that young Thain, I heared.'  
  
The one who'd said "no great loss" earlier snorted, saying, 'Who d'you say stopped it? That young upstart? Went off to foreign parts, I say he might as well've stayed there! Iffen he weren't worthless, then why'd Thain Paladin disown him in the first place?'  
  
There was a murmur of protest, but over it came the sound of a mug being slammed upon a table as Everard rose, his face thunderous, beer sloshing over the table from the mug he'd so precipitously put down. 'What did you say?' he asked into the silence.  
  
The speaker stammered. 'I-- I didn't mean no disrespect, Everard, just tryin' to give credit where it's due. Everyone knows, 'twere your idea, and you and the other engineers put out the fire, and we're that grateful to you.'  
  
'There would be no black powder in Tookland, but for the Thain,' Everard said softly. 'And I wouldn't know how to use it, but for the Thain,' he said, his voice growing louder. 'And Tuckborough would have burned down about your heads, but for the Thain!' he ended in a shout.  
  
'I thought--' the loudmouth said into the silence, then quailed under the combined stares of Everard and his tablemates.  
  
'What did you think?' Everard said slowly.  
  
The other gulped. Everard's temper was legendary amongst the Tooks. Whilst a hobbit would never turn his anger against another hobbit, not unless he wished to face a sentence of exile, there was something about Everard's deadly calm that caused the loudmouth's knees to shake.  
  
'I thought--' he said again. 'I thought you wanted Reginard to be Thain,' he said. 'You said he deserved it, and that no young upstart should come in from the outside and think he could take Tookland over when he's not even lived in Tookland for years!' He spoke in a rush, gaining confidence as he threw Everard's own words back in his face.  
  
Everard nodded. 'Aye,' he said heavily. 'I said all those things.' His shoulders slumped, and then he pulled them straight again. 'Aye, and d'you want to know what I say now?' He glared about the staring faces; he had the attention of all in the room. No one moved or spoke. He started quietly, to end in a shout. 'I say, I was WRONG!' Someone gasped. A Took never admitted to a mistake, at least, not publicly.  
  
Everard gave a jerk of his chin. 'That's right,' he said. 'You heard me right.' His gaze swept the room again. 'Thain Peregrin saved us all. There wouldn't be a Tuckborough tonight, were it not for him. That fire would probably still be raging acrost Tookland, through Eastfarthing until it fetched up against the Brandywine River, 'till there weren't nothing left but smoking ruins of what was once farms, and forest, and hobbit holes... and hobbits.'  
  
He tossed a coin on the table and stalked from the room, leaving silence behind him. 


	17. Epilogue

Xena: Thanks. I knew Reginard and Everard had lots of potential when I first started writing them in Jewels, after the flash flood. Loved how they dealt with Pippin at the time, and just kept thinking about them.  
  
Dana: great reviews, as usual, and thanks for previewing for me.  
  
Pansy: well, pippin cannot be brilliant about everything, no. He might sound like a... fictional character, and we cannot have that! And you're right, he ought to have known better. Guess he was more worried about his people than his lungs.  
  
I regret to inform you all that this is the last chapter of this particular story. On the bright side, you can read more about Pippin's reign as Thain in "Down and Out" and "At the End of His Rope" (70 some chapters and still growing... know where we're going but have yet to get there) and several more as yet untitled stories, one of which is set concurrent with "FireStorm" and tells about Regi's courtship. However, will not be posting story of Regi's courtship, however wonderful it may be (IMHO), until I can come up with a decent title, other than the pathetic working title it has at the moment. Suggestions welcome. Want a contest? The one who comes up with the best name will get the story by email, perhaps, ahead of everyone else? Can you tell I'm desperate? (The only titles I've come up with sound like the Harlequin romances I avert my eyes from at the grocery store... do they still make those?)  
  
***  
  
Chapter 17. Epilogue  
  
Pippin became aware that a weight was resting on his leg, whilst a hand loosely clasped his. Breathing was taking most of his concentration, as it seemed his lungs were too small and cramped to take in even a pittance of the air he craved. He forced his eyes open, to find himself propped up in bed, Diamond in a chair beside him, apparently asleep, head down upon the coverlet. He pulled his hand free of hers, bringing it to rest on her silky hair. 'How...' the word came out little more than a croak, and he closed his eyes, spent already by his small efforts.  
  
'Pippin,' he heard Reginard say, quite close by, and he felt Diamond's head stir beneath his fingers.  
  
He managed to blink his eyes open once again, searching for Regi, finding him finally. He swallowed, ran a dry tongue over parched lips, strove to speak again. This time he managed a cracked whisper. 'How... long?'  
  
Reginard actually smiled at him. 'We stopped the fire three days ago,' he said softly.  
  
There was a clink of pitcher against cup, and then the sound of water being poured. Ferdibrand swam into sight, holding a cup of water. 'Here, Pip,' he said. 'Sip some of this.' He held the cup to Pippin's lips, and the water blessed his lips and tongue. 'Small sips,' Ferdi warned. Pippin obeyed, enjoying the feel of the water in his mouth, trickling down his throat.  
  
'That's better,' he whispered when Ferdi took the cup away.  
  
Reginard placed a gentle hand on Diamond's shoulder. 'Diamond,' he said. She stirred again under Pippin's hand, and his fingers moved in her tangled curls. She raised her head, to stare unbelieving into his face, and then the tears came and she nestled her head gently against his labouring chest, carefully circling him with her arms. He continued to stroke her hair with what little energy he could divert from the work of breathing, the only comfort he could offer, as speech seemed too great an effort at the moment.  
  
Reginard spoke again. 'You had us a bit worried.'  
  
Pippin managed to nod. I was that worried, myself, he wanted to say, but it didn't seem important enough to make the attempt.  
  
Ferdibrand bent down to say, 'The fire's out; we managed to stop it with the fire breaks. We still have hobbits out watching for flare-ups and hot spots, but the rains started this morning, so our troubles ought to be finished soon.' He held up the cup. 'Would you like more?'  
  
Pippin managed to shake his head, but the incredible weakness that held him captive was discouraging.  
  
He felt an overwhelming sense of defeat. He had been making progress, he'd thought, chipping away at the attitudes around him, proving his merit to his skeptical relatives, so close, he thought, to gaining their acceptance. Now the weakness of his body had betrayed him, as his detractors had warned; his treacherous lungs had nearly failed him again. Too weak to be Thain, they would say. Too unwell. A real pity, that... the lad had such potential. Ah, well, we always knew old Paladin had the right of it. His son was never fit to be Thain after him.  
  
Diamond had pulled her head back, was gazing searchingly into his face, reading his expression. 'What is it, love?' she asked softly.  
  
'Not fit,' he answered. He managed to smile. 'When...?'  
  
'It's all right,' Diamond said. 'You need to rest, get your strength back.'  
  
He shook his head, still smiling. 'When will they come?' he said. 'Twas a poor enough joke, no one was smiling but himself.  
  
'When will who come, cousin?' Reginard asked.  
  
'Bind, and blind, and o'er th' border,' he whispered. The joke was sounding poorer every minute.  
  
Reginard threw back his head and laughed, Diamond and Ferdibrand staring at him in astonishment. 'You have it all wrong, Pippin,' he said. 'You cannot leave Tookland now; should you try, the Tooks would come after you. They'd bind you, all right, and put the blindfold on, and toss you on the back of a pony, and bring you over the border, for true, bring you back to Tuckborough, you daft fool of a Took, you...' he ran out of words.  
  
Ferdibrand put a hand on Pippin's arm and said, 'You cannot get out of being Thain that easily, cousin. You swore an oath, and we mean to hold you to it.'  
  
'You see?' Reginard said, with a meaningful nod. 'I told you so.'  
  
Pippin laughed as best he could, though it cost him in pain and in energy, and then he closed his eyes, and went back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: As noted above, the story of Thain Peregrin I is continued in "Down and Out" and "At the End of His Rope", and in several more stories to come, I hope, including the story of Regi's courtship, which does not yet have a name. (any suggestions?) 


End file.
